


The Great Escape

by OthilaOdal



Category: Death Note
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Concerts, Drugs, Emotional Abuse, Emotional Baggage, Fame, Hacking, Hurt/Comfort, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, Kissing, Lies, Love, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Minor Canonical Character(s), Multi, Prostitution, Recreational Drug Use, Rock and Roll, Romance, Self-Discovery, Smuggling, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:59:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 86,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OthilaOdal/pseuds/OthilaOdal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mihael is a drug smuggler going by the name Mello. He hates his job and the people he works with but most of all he hates druggies. </p><p>Matt is a guitarist in a budding rock band with a major addiction to drugs who spends his spare time hacking into computers, going by the username Mail, and prying into people’s personal life. One day Matt hacks into a computer to find the owner typing a rant who he later figures is called Mihael. Interested, Matt decides to look for the illusive Mihael. </p><p>Meanwhile, a drug deal causes Mello to meet the members of a budding rock band.</p><p>Are the two fated to be together or to miss each other by inches? Will the two break the bonds holding them down or break down in attempts?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1: Orphans

**Author's Note:**

> Also found on FFN where I'm registered under the username Okirimono.

## ORPHANS

> ##### M’s Computer. Date: 4th April 2009
> 
> It’s like there is nowhere to run to. Everything I do seems to have consequences much greater than I desire. 
> 
> And on top of that there’s that feeling…The feeling that suffocates me sometimes. The realization of how alone I am. I blame it on things. Say it’s just anxiety or me overthinking things. And that might be true but those things only bring to surface the truth. And the truth is that I am alone. There is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. 
> 
> Sometimes I miss him, the boy I fell in love with. Gareth. Not because I miss him as a person. When he’s around I don’t even want to speak to him. But I miss not being alone. I miss the feeling I got when I was with him. I miss the warden at the orphanage waking me up from my afternoon nap, telling me there was a call for me at the phone booth room. And I didn’t need to ask whose call it was. It was him. I knew it. I miss knowing that he’s here. But he was here. He’s no longer here. Unfortunately for myself he never took me half as seriously as I took him. I didn’t mean to him half as much as he had meant to me.
> 
> I wanted to go to someone and cry about it. Cry my eyes out and just say that I really truly loved him. Not because he made me feel loved but because for the first time I found someone I was fascinated by and they seemed just as fascinated by me, loved me the same way as I loved them…or so I thought. But who could I run to? Who could I talk to? The world is cruel to people like me. Bisexuals….we have no place. Same goes for those on the end of the rainbow. The homosexuals. What’s so wrong about us? I could never understand. Genders never mattered to me. Love is love and I couldn’t care less where it came from. On top of all that I’m an orphan. The world is bloody cruel to us.
> 
> But I was just a momentary entertainment to him. Just some wild orphan boy with entertaining smarts. And as flattering as that is it’s rather annoying that I couldn’t make him stay. I was not top priority to him. I was secondary. In fact, now that I think about it, I was worse than just secondary. I was optional. It would’ve made no difference to him if I wouldn’t have made that accidental advance at him.  
>  And it’s his fault I’m in this mess….no it’s my fault. I let myself get carried away. I cared too much. I let my emotions take over me. I made it so easy for him to manipulate me and drag me into this mess. I ended up here in this Godforsaken dark hell hole. It had always been a game and he had played well.
> 
> I am an orphan. An orphan is nobody, a person with no lineage or inheritance to speak of, no family pride or anything, more importantly, no one who cares. An orphan is the best target for strong families in the underworld. They take you in and clothe you, feed you, pretend they care and just when you start caring you’re off to work. They sell you and/or you sell the products. And when you see the change in their eyes, stumble upon the secrets, realize you’re just a tool, it’s too late. You’re in neck deep and there’s no way out.

Mello found himself staring blankly at the screen, scanning again and again the words that had flown through his fingers and appeared onto the screen. A deep sigh left him. He realized that his habit was pointless but he resorted to it nonetheless. He highlighted everything on the screen and tapped at the delete button and just like that his words were gone.

He got off the chair and pulled his shirt over his head, getting ready to go to bed. It was pointless writing what he wrote, because he could never tell anyone. He was neck deep and couldn’t say a word, couldn’t ask anyone for help. It was usually against his pride to ask for help since he knew his place in the world. He knew people like him needed to make it on their own but he couldn’t help it sometimes. Sometimes he wished someone would just show up and at least hold his hand through it, just so he knew that if he fucked up someone would be there to hold him and say, ‘better luck next time’.

But since he couldn’t ask for fear that he might, yet again, get screwed over and end up in a bigger mess than originally intended, he typed down his worries, his thoughts, his fears and then erased them, just so that he at least felt like he had an outlet.

He reached for his phone the second he heard the ringtone go off.

“Yeah?” he spoke into it.

“Have a big gig for you.” Mello rolled his eyes. ‘Big gig’ would merely mean he was marketing more drugs and he hoped this time it wouldn’t be to fat rich suit wearing bastards. He was getting tired of the monotony. But he knew all the clients Rod sent him to were of that sort. Something about Mello having a ‘smart mouth’. 

“Tell me it’s not a deal with that sleaze bag who owns those mental institutions.” 

“Nope. It’s bigger than that. It’s different from what you’re used to so I need to be sure you can handle this.”

“When have I ever let you down?”

 

\------------------------------------------------------------

 

Matt stared into the computer screen. The words he had just finished reading were gone, just like that. He hadn’t had the chance to analyze or try and read between the lines and before he had known it, they were gone.

He had taken to hacking any computers or laptops connected to a network when he was very young and was a self-proclaimed master at it and he wasn’t wrong. He really was a master at it. He originally started doing it to access university level libraries with ebooks and papers by scholars about softwares and networks. Recently, however, he had just started missing doing it, started missing his hobby. So he had picked up the habit of hacking random computers for the fun of it and monitor what the person behind said random computer was up to. Usually it’d be something he could later laugh about like porn or embarrassing self-hygiene issues but this time he had stumbled upon someone ranting, ranting about being alone, about being used, about the underworld, about being an orphan, about some guy. And Matt had initially laughed until the person had mentioned the word ‘orphanage’.

“No….No, no, no, no.” He whined tapping violently at the recovery key.

He knew it was no use. But although the words were gone and he hadn’t had the time to analyze them fully, memorize them, they had left a mark on him, a curiosity, a sense of urgency. Matt was an orphan as well but had been luckier than most. He had a talent, fast fingers, what with all the gaming he was used to. And he had picked up the guitar at age twelve and had been ‘discovered’ at age fifteen by a music producer who got him to join a band and that’s where he was, rich, famous and high on drugs.

But this person, this person whose computer he had hacked into was of the same roots which meant a total lack of roots and yet this person had ended up in a completely different world from Matt. Matt wondered what his world was like.

“Matt!” he heard a voice call from the back. It was Joey, the lead guitarist. “Do you want a doobie or not?”

“Yeah.” He absent-mindedly accepted the joint. He took a deep drag, held it and slowly exhaled allowing the cannabis to take effect on him.

_This person, what’s wrong with this person?_ Matt thought. _He should smoke up and have some fun, chill out a ‘lil bit. And what’s with all this bisexual homosexual and love bullshit? Okay I agree people shouldn’t care about genders or sexuality but love? What the fuck is that shit? He needed to get laid or something. Forget it Matt. It’s just a story. Don’t get worked up about this. It’s just a random person writing a really good story in first person. It’s not a rant._

He shrugged the thought of the person but just before he turned all attention to the high the joint was giving him and his DS, he saved the IP address of the person. He might want to check back on the guy and see how the story was going.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**MORAL: The walls have ears.**


	2. Mihael Keehl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also found on FFN where I'm registered under the username Okirimono.

## MIHAEL KEEHL

>   
> **M’s Computer. Date: 5th April 2009**
> 
> I met him, Gareth, at the orphanage. I was fourteen and he was sixteen. He came to one of the orphanage’s many donation parties. Rich fucks from all over the world came to check that shit out. He was the son of one of the rich fucks.
> 
> We were dressed in our Sunday best, told a million times by the caretaker, Roger, to be absolutely perfect and be nice. I could’ve sworn he glared at me when he said the last part. According to Roger ever since I had shown up on his door step these parties had gone downhill. It wasn’t my fault. The parties were boring. My antics were the only entertaining bit. But I had been warned this time, no chocolates and no overtime in the library if I wasn’t on my best behavior. I enjoy both so I had decided not to pre-plan anything and try to be presentable.
> 
> So I had made my way to the main hall, black dinner jacket and perfect tie clad, blonde hair combed to their best curling slightly inwards at my neck. And that’s when I had seen him. Tall, brown haired, brown eyed boy grinning widely, comfortable with all the discomforting things around him, the girls in uncomfortable dresses giving him glances, the rich fucks walking up and making uncomfortable looking small talk with him, but he stood there and smiled, comfortable with all the discomfort. I knew immediately that he was a rich brat used to parties and other uncomfortably boring things. I snorted watching him talk to Joe, another orphan boy my age.
> 
> Usually kids get adopted before they hit puberty only ‘bad boys’ like myself and Joe that didn’t meet the expectations get left behind. I didn’t care. I was fine not having a family. But something in me twisted as I watched the boy and Joe laugh over some nonsense. I passed them by to get something to drink and caught the words ‘we’d be more than delighted to have you as a part of the family’. My heart stopped. How could it be? I was losing to Joe as well? My anger boiled within me as I walked up to the two.
> 
> “Hey Michael!” Joe was a little too happy for my liking. “Meet Gareth….His parents are looking to adopt teenagers…but as apprentices. Am I correct?”
> 
> “That’s right, Joe.” The boy smiled at me. “I’m Gareth” He held out his hand. I looked down at it and faked a smile.
> 
> “Michael.” I took his hand. “You should be careful with teenagers. There’s a reason why Joe and I never got adopted.”
> 
> “And what might that be?”
> 
> “We’re nothing but trouble.”
> 
> He laughed. “Michael, right?” His eyes lit up. He was beautiful. I hated him more. “Ever heard of the proverb ‘An empty mind is a-“
> 
> “Devil’s workshop.” I cut in. “Yes, it’s from Henry George Bohn’s Handbook of Proverbs published first in 1855. And I believe the original goes like ‘An idle brain is a devil’s workshop’. Also, if you analyze the meaning of the proverb it doesn’t mean that an active brain intends to do good but states that a lack of activity invites more laziness. And we’re not lazy, mind you. We’re trouble…..At least, I am. So you’re argument is invalid.”
> 
> “Woah!” His eyes widened, darting away and then back at me, eyebrows creasing in bewilderment. I cocked my head slightly in pride. I wanted to confuse him, make him as uncomfortable as I was.
> 
> “Gareth.” A tall man, who by the looks of it must’ve been his father, placed a hand on his shoulder. “Have you said hello to Mr. Roger?”
> 
> “Wait a minute father.” He barely looked away from me and I held his gaze. His lips curled a little. “Michael, I never made an argument.”
> 
> “Correct. But you were about to. No.” I shook my head. “You were about to make a polite gesture at an argument to establish a higher ground in the conversation so as to exude a feeling of superiority like you rich folks like to.” I took a deep breath. “You were about to say that an idle brain is a devil’s workshop and I’m trouble only because I don’t put my brain to good use. That is an inaccurate assumption. I have written a good number of university level dissertations, some of which, as I’m told, are going to be published and provided at five well-renowned university libraries. So no, I put my brain to brilliant use, thank you very much. And in case, I forgot to mention, I’m fourteen. Now,” I paused. “What, pray tell, have you done with your life?”
> 
> He and his father stared at me wide-eyed, before a smile spread across the older man’s face.
> 
> “A man of character!” he exclaimed taking my hand. “I’m Grey. Charles Grey. Gareth’s father. I think he called you Michael. Mind if I call you that?”
> 
> I raised an indifferent shoulder. It was an alias. I would never disclose my real name. I’m paranoid like that. I feel the need to keep secrets.
> 
> “Michael, I’d love to chat with you later. How about we meet up some day for tea?”
> 
> A nod, a forced smile.
> 
> “Great. Now if you don’t mind I’m going to have to take Gareth away. We will see you soon, won’t we?”
> 
> “Sure.”
> 
> He was gone, broad back walking away from me just like that. And his absence was making me angrier than his presence had.
> 
> Afterwards, he and Grey came around a few times. Roger had told me they would. Apparently I had left an impression. Soon, Gareth was the only one who came to visit. He’d listen to me, grinning ear to ear and eyes wide in fascination, talk about the books I had come across and my theories on the multi-verse, the higgs boson or some such nerdy topic. What I found fascinating about him was that he put up with me and my weird antics. I was a rude little bitch but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead he was nice to me and I wondered why or how could anyone be so nice.
> 
> Before I knew it my heart had softened for him……and other things had hardened. I had him pinned against my cupboard, lips moving against his. He was beautiful and I wanted it all. I wanted to see him moan for me. And so I did. In my room at the orphanage, on my bed, I saw him moan for me, whimper, beg for me, me alone, as I entered him. I returned the favor, allowing him in me.
> 
> But whatever, those thoughts, those feelings, meant nothing to him. It was all good fun.
> 
> His father took me in as an apprentice, bought me books, fed me, and I lived right next door to the love of my life. I was taught business skills and sports like football. [Mind you, I prefer Organic Chemistry and Physics]. I was even allowed to learn how to fire guns. Now that I think about it I should’ve made my leave at that point but I had shrugged it off as a rich folk hobby. 
> 
> An incident took place at one of the shooting ranges once, an incident that changed my life. I was practicing sniping. I enjoyed it the most because it took more patience, a steady arm, an aware mind and above all it was sly. So there I was practicing my arm and aim at the range where the exercise was already set up; moving sacks of hay popping out of hidden holes in the ground, being thrown in a projectile out of holes in wall or being swung around on ropes and pulleys. The challenge, however, was that it was dark and I had a limited amount of time to finish as many sacks as I could. In the heat of the shoot-out, I didn’t notice someone walk into the range. They weren’t supposed to be there in the first place but what good does that argument do now? The “someone”, who happened to be Al one of Mr. Grey’s employees, ran across the dark ground of the shooting range. I aimed and fired. The cry of pain turned my blood cold, made my hair stand straight as I ran towards the source.
> 
> “OH GOD!” I sat next to him, trying to apply pressure onto the wound on his lower ribs as his blood bubbled out of his mouth. “SOMEONE!! ANYONE!” 
> 
> Before you call me weak let me point out that I had no intention of killing someone and probably would’ve stayed calm if that was in fact the result I was hoping to achieve. Also consider the fact that I was fifteen. Today I’d probably shoot you point blank without blinking.
> 
> Grey arrived on the scene and his calmness and pragmatic behavior confused me. I remember thinking “How can he be so calm? There’s so much blood everywhere.” My hands were drenched in hastily coagulating blood, my pants stiffening where I had sank my knees into the man’s blood when I had sat next to him.
> 
> “I…I killed him.” I stammered.
> 
> “Don’t worry, Michael.” Grey’s voice barely seemed to pay me any attention and I thought he’d turn me in and I’d have to go to court. “I should say it was an accident.” I told myself but my trivial preparations were in vain. The police was never called. Grey had someone else take care of the body. For a month I tried asking Grey to turn me in. “It’s the right thing to do.” I’d tell him. But he’d say, “It wasn’t your fault, Michael.”
> 
> “Yes. Exactly.” I’d argue. “It wasn’t my fault. And even if it is my fault that Al is dead. It still was an accident. I could tell that to the police. Go through with this the proper way. The longer we wait the further the case will go against me. We need to go to the po-“
> 
> “No, Michael.” He sternly cut in. “The case won’t go against you because there will be no case.”
> 
> Where was the newly found love of my life then? Siding with his father, laughing it off and telling me to “get over it.”
> 
> At first the conversations with Grey would at least get to this point. Soon, however, he became hostile. He’d grab my arms and slam me against the wall and sneer, “Well, yes, the case is going against you.  
>  In fact, we can all testify against you so you’d better do as I say and shut up about it, you little twit, or you’re done for.”
> 
> Naturally, fearing for my own life I gave up.
> 
> Two months after the incident I got my first assignment.
> 
> “You must.” Gareth insisted.
> 
> “Gary, I can’t!” I stared at him wide-eyed. “I can’t have sex with someone for money! It’s…I’m not a whore! Why the hell would you even suggest that? What is wrong with you?”
> 
> “You must do it.” He pinned me against the wall, much like his father. It doesn’t help that I was rather small for my age. “Or do you want people to find out that you’re a murderer?”
> 
> If my eyes weren’t already wide enough they grew wider. I realized what I was to these people. I was a tool, a mere body to be used as they pleased. 
> 
> Before long I had done it all. I had been hired for pleasure. I had sold weapons and drugs. I had killed people in their sleep. One deed for the fear of the last until I had lost my soul, until there was nothing but apathy. I realized later that I was a fool. The Greys had wanted Al dead. He was deceived and sent in there on faith that I would shoot at him, which I had. So they lost the man they wanted to lose and hired the man that they had wanted to hire. What a commendable recruitment strategy, I must say.
> 
> Needless to say, once I realized exactly what I meant to Gareth, the relationship was off. It didn’t need a break up. No one would stick to a man that made a criminal out of them.
> 
> I’m now only in the line of drugs. They say I handle it best. I’m apparently too much of an asset to be used for mere pleasure or to be sent out on the front lines to be killed.
> 
> I’m everything I never wanted to be.
> 
> I’m a whore.
> 
> I’m a smuggler.
> 
> I’m a killer.
> 
> I’m everything you should avoid.
> 
> I’m the monster under your bed.
> 
> I am Mihael Keehl.  
> 

Mello heard the beep of the alarm on his phone. Turning it off, he highlighted and deleted everything he had written. He noticed how his heightened emotions at the memories had caused him to eventually type down his real name, Mihael Keehl, even though he had been careful to type Michael instead of Mello before. But it didn’t matter and that was, what he thought, the best part about typing down his memories and feelings was. He didn’t need to worry about slips. It’s not like anyone would ever read those words.

He made his way downstairs, clad in his white jeans, black leather vest, showing off a bit of his waist, and his heavy black boots. The thump of his boots announced his presence before he had made it downstairs, biting on his favorite bar of chocolate.

He looked around at the men in the main hall, sitting himself down in a leather chair. Rod, a huge dark bald man, Jack, a blonde cunning looking man with circular glasses, Grey, a thin broad shouldered man in an expensive looking thick black coat and his son, Gareth, a tall and lean pretty brown eyed son of a bitch.

“Mello.” Grey smirked. “Long time.”

“Not long enough.”

“They have a job for you Mello.” Rod stated. “Remember I said something bigger than what you’re used to?”

“I’m listening.” Mello placed one hand on his temple blocking out the sight of Gareth. It wasn’t that he liked him still. It was just whenever he saw him he felt the need to break every bone in his body because Gareth had given him the taste of the delusion of love. And Mello had enjoyed it while it had lasted. Because Gareth had used Mello’s vulnerability to his advantage. And Mello didn’t like to be treated like a lesser being.

“It’s a band going on tour in America.” Rod began explaining. “Their producer is trying all he can to get them more famous than they already are, which is not much but you know the drill, sex, drugs, rock and roll.”

“So I am to be touring with these people, being their Marry Poppins pulling out whatever spells they need from my magic purse.”

“Hell yes…You’re to give them everything they need Mello, they need to be happy. The producer needs to be happy with us. If we manage this we can have a permanent deal and shitload of contacts in music industry. And that means a good amount of cash.”

“Understood.”

“Jack will be going with you.”

Mello looked up at him cocking an eyebrow.

“Mello you tend to be a rebel and everyone here knows it. Jack will watch over you, make sure you…stay focused.”

“More like you need someone to make sure I do anything and everything required of me.” Mello thought but nodded accepting the tag-along.

“Well then I guess it’s settled!” Grey exclaimed rubbing his hands on his thighs. “And you’ve got your best man on the job. I know what Mello is capable of. And so long as he’s kept in check I’m not worried.”

Mello’s blue eyes pierced at Grey, as he and his son were led out by Rod and Jack, wondering how much more fulfilling it would be if he could kill them. Gareth stopped and turned on his heel as if he had forgotten something.

Mello watched as the smiling brunette walked up to him. He leaned over Mello, placing his hands on the armrests of the chair Mello was seated in.

“Don’t cheat on me with those rockstars, baby.” He jested, a deceitful smile spreading on his lips as he pressed his lips against Mello’s.

Mello knocked his hands off the armrest, sending the off balanced brunette’s head falling into Mello’s knee, which he had raised in anticipation of the impact.

“FUCKING HELL MELLO!” the brunette raged holding his hurt nose. Mello smirked in his triumph.

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want with them…and I’m not your fucking baby.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Matt stared wide eyed at the screen. He had spent the entire day thinking about the story he had come across the previous night and had been hoping he would find the person typing up the next chapter to his story at the same time as he had typed the one before. So he had hacked into the computer, again, at that specific time and found the person typing.

This time Matt read it faster, not wanting to miss on anything and every word, every experience had sent a shiver down Matt’s spine. He pitied the character, this Michael. No. Mihael.

“Mihael.” Matt repeated. He thought, at first, that it was perhaps a typo but then the person had never gone to correct it and had also mentioned that Michael was an alias. “Mihael Keehl.”

“What did you say?” Joey called out from behind him.

“Nothing.” Matt shut his laptop. “I was just reading.”

“Reading?” His manager, Larry exclaimed. “You’re a rockstar Matty, a guitarist, a motherfucking ball of charisma. You need to be fucking bitches not reading.”

Matt laughed. “I do that too, Larry.”

“The show is going to be on the road tomorrow and I have a real party planned for you lot.” Larry continued. “There’s going to be booze, bitches and bongs.” The three ultimate Bs of every rocker’s life. Matt would add “bros” to the picture. But no one else seemed to agree with that.

Joey, the lead guitarist, Jerry, the drummer, Jamie, the bassist and Madison, the vocalist, cheered. Matt smiled at them. Matt could live without the powders and drugs of the rocker life but he chose not to. He was having too much fun. Life was too good. He after all had girls literally bending over for him, an orphan boy who would never have dreamt of this. This dream was way bigger than his small dream of being adopted and living with a caring mother, a fun father and an younger brother who he would teach to play video games, who would admire him and aim to grow up to be just like him.  
This was way bigger than his dream so he didn’t complain and took it as it came even if in the beginning it had felt overwhelming and sort of wrong. He had shrugged off the feeling, told himself that he could stop whenever he wanted and jumped right in.

He watched as the rest of his band-mates discussed all the type of drugs they wanted. Mary-Jane, Powder, Shrooms, ice, whatever. Matt enjoyed Marry-j and shrooms. He had been given other drugs before but he didn’t like them all that much. But of course you can’t say no all the time, someone might mind it. So he had become accustomed to hard drugs but not in large quantities. Just once in a while.

“Wait a second.” Matt butted in. “Who’s bringing us all this stash? Last time you said we didn’t have enough money for that much.”

“It’s a deal I made with this supplier. No biggie.” Larry shrugged. “They’re going to send some of their men over to make sure you guys have fun and party hard. Some guys called Jack and Mello.”

“Ooooh!” Madison cried in delight. “It’s almost like we’ve got our own dope crew?”

“What the hell is a dope crew?” Matt muttered. He didn’t like Madison much but put up with her for Joey’s sake. Joey was dating her after all. And Joey was the founder of the band.

“Fuckin’ Ace!” Jerry joined her in jumping on the couch. “Larry! You’re the man!”

Matt shook his head laughing, while Larry explained how he wanted them to be at their best for the tour now that he had spent so much money on them.

**MORAL: All that glitters is not gold.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.


	3. Meet the Cast

## MEET THE CAST

**Date: 9th April 2009.**

Mello walked through the corridor of the hotel passing by several rooms towards the man waiting for him at the other end. Jack tailed behind him.

“Mello.” Mello held his hand out at the man.

“huh?” The man said stomping out his cigarette. “You’re the dealer?”

“Problem?”

“I was expecting something….” Larry searched for words.

“Bigger? More dopey looking?” Mello cocked an eyebrow at the man. He’d had enough of people looking down on him because he rarely ever looked the part but he tried not to let it show too much. This guy was boss from now on. “If you want someone more dopey looking, here, have Jack. He’s on ice. But if you need a supplier that can keep his head in the game instead of his hands in the stash, you can have me, Mello, sober as fuck. Jack is my baby-sitter.” He rolled his eyes.

“I’m impressed.” The man laughed shaking Mello’s hand. “I’m Larry, the Manager. The band is right here. I hope you have the tour planned out.”

“It’s all been taken care of.” Mello followed after the man with Jack at his heels. “The clubs, the hotels, the girls, the stash, the bus…everything is ready.”

“Good.” Larry pushed a door open. “Here’s the band.”

Mello walked into the messy room wondering where he was supposed to put his feet. There were feathers from pillows everywhere. Empty bottles rolled on the floor. Overturned ashtrays along with some pretty illegal looking hand rolled cigarette butts littered the floor. And the smell, oh, the smell! Mello could have sworn he walked right into the sixties.

A bubblegum pink haired girl along with two brunette boys, twins by the looks of it, and a black haired boy lay sleeping on the floor, legs tangling and kicking at each other, although the bed was right behind them. Mello’s eyes trailed onto the bed. Stained white sheets were pulled to one corner of the bed, pillows nowhere to be found. What really caught Mello’s eye was the redhead boy on the bed that lay in front of a plugged in laptop, playing what appeared to be a video game. “Gaming nerd? Oh my luck!” Mello thought, cheerful sarcasm almost too sugary for his brain. “…..well it’s better than fat rich suited bastards.” He argued with himself. “Druggies either way. They’re all the same when they’re high.”

“Ah! Hey there!” The redhead turned around. He had the look Mello hated, laid back and confident, someone that never had to work hard, but of course thought that he did. He got off the bed and walked towards them and Mello got a better view of him, although he had to avoid the wondering how the redhead was managing to maneuver around all the mess in the room.

He was tall, a few inches taller than Mello, had flaming red unkempt hair, broad shoulders, a lean frame, broader than Mello. He wore a red and black stripped shirt that looked like it needed either ironing or laundering or both. His dark blue jeans, torn from wear at the ankles and knees, were the same. The guy was a fashion disaster but if he would’ve been blonde and shaggy he would’ve reminded Mello even more strongly of Kurt Cobain, what with the stripes. And after all Kurt Cobain had sported red hair for a while as well. But of course no one, no one, could ever be Kurt Cobain. What Mello found particularly disastrous, though, were the orange tinted goggles covering the guy’s eyes.

Matt looked at the blonde and the only thing he could think of was a cat. He honestly thought the guy was a feral feline creature. He sure moved like one, walking at Matt calculating where his feet fell. He was shorter than Matt. _Probably five feet six…no…seven._ Matt, who himself was a proud six feet, thought. He had a habit of profiling people like that, memorizing what they looked like. The blonde was a sight. Neatly kept but shaggily cut blond hair with a front fringe fell roughly around the guy’s jaw. A leather vest that flaunted his toned yet thin arms and waist hugged at his thin fragile looking frame. A belt with a large but not overtly so buckle held together dull black vinyl pants with the most curious looking contraption for a zipper Matt had ever set his eyes on. Matt shrugged the thought, eyes moving to the chocolate in the guy’s small leather gloved hand. Matt couldn’t help but smile. This serious looking biker/rocker boy didn’t seem like the type to enjoy a sweet treat. _But everyone has a sweet side….I guess._ He thought holding out his hand to the blonde meeting him halfway across the distance.

“Matt, rhythm guitar.” He smiled at the blonde who moved the chocolate from his right to left hand before taking Matt’s hand. His hands were small, bony, a perfect fit in his.

“Mello, dealer.” Mello noticed how Matt’s hands were larger than his own, firmer than his own, probably moved faster. He brushed the thought away immediately.

“Oh! So you’re the dealer!” Matt looked into Mello’s eyes and was surprised by the icy cold in them. Didn’t dealers usually look less dangerous, less cold….more chilled out? They were a piercing blue, enchanting, confident and looked like they wouldn’t flinch no matter what happened. The chocolate was starting to seem a lot more out of place now. “We’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

“I bet you have.” Mello tried to keep the sneer out of his voice. He didn’t like druggies very much. He’d had too many experiences with hostile ones. “And that there…” Mello pointed at Jack who was still standing in the doorway. “…is Jack…my supervisor of sorts.” Mello admitted.

“Hello there! Welcome to the world of The Bombs.” Matt waved at Jack cheerfully. “That’s the band name by the way.” He explained looking back at Mello.

“Mello is here to fulfill all your needs.” Jack stepped forward and placed a hand on Matt’s shoulder. Uncomfortable with the way Jack leaned into him and spoke, Matt felt the need to lean slightly away from the creep. “And if there’s any sort of trouble, come to me.”

Matt’s eyes fell on Mello and he could have sworn the blonde was sneering at his supervisor.

“We can provide all sorts of services.” Jack continued creeping one arm around Mello’s waist.

Mello lazily pushed the man aside saying, “Yeah, he gets the picture, Jack. You don’t have to be a weirdo about it.”

Matt forced a laugh, not sure if he understood what “all sorts of services” meant.

“Well…I suppose you should wake the rest up and pack up.” Mello continued, looking around the room wondering what kind of luggage they were planning on bringing with them, besides booze that is. “The bus is waiting outside.”

“Wait.” Mello turned to look at the floor were the muffled sound had risen from. The black haired boy looked up at him, eyes squinting against the light, arm stretching out towards Mello. “I need a doobie before we head off.”

“He has an appetite.” Matt laughed. “But yes I want to smoke up before we leave. That’s Joey by the way, lead guitar.”

Mello tried not to cock an eyebrow as he dug out a little plastic packet from his pocket and threw it at Joey. “Share them.” He said as he turned his back towards Matt and maneuvered his way out.

Matt stared at the guy’s back, deciding that Mello was a without doubt the most badass person he’d ever met.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**Date: 13th April 2009.**

Mello rubbed a couple of fingers and a thumb tightly on his temples wondering how people his age and older could come off as such immature beings. _It’s the drugs, Mello_. He told himself. _They’re high. They’re bound to be this way._

Mello usually avoided people when they were drunk. Hanging out with stoned people was a whole different level of no-no for him. Everyone in the tour bus was just that. He was glad, however, that this was still a lot more interesting than the projects he had been previously assigned to. In the past few days, Mello had travelled with the band, under close surveillance by Jack of course, but so far he had learnt quite a good amount about the members of the band. 

Joey, lead guitarist and founder of the band, was older than Mello, twenty-five. He had a personality that made Mello want to slap him into the ground, the type of person that constantly had to enforce his authority on everyone, remind them who they should be listening to. He had big pointless theories about the world that no one should take too seriously. Mello guessed Joey would bend over if a person from a higher status within the industry walked by but for anyone under him Joey would make sure they stay under his feet. Mello despised him for this reason, because Mello obviously wasn’t important enough for Joey to be nice to and with Jack keeping a constant eye on him, Mello couldn’t do much to show Joey exactly what he was made of.

The Twins, Jerry and Jamie, drums and bass, twenty one, were Mello’s idea of fun, when they were sober that is. They would go around wreaking havoc, annoying people everywhere. Jerry would throw a snide remark, Jamie would back him up. The thing Mello liked most about them was that they annoyed the life out of Joey. Intoxicated twins were a different story. When high Jerry would silently drum fingers or his sticks to the rhythm of music no one besides him and his twin could hear. The twins would sit together and feel nothing but the rhythm of the music. Weirdly enough the only real thing they would be aware of would be each other.

The vocalist, Madison also known as Maddie, twenty, was Mello’s definition of a wannabe diva bitch. She had a voice from what Mello could tell but she was almost always drunk, too giggly for the good of anyone, took far too much pride than necessary in her looks, nagged like a bitch on a rag and threw tantrums when things didn’t go her way. Mello guessed she was sleeping with Joey but then he was sure her legs were wide open for anyone who could utter two sweet words, buy her a drink and move his tongue like a snake.

Matt, rhythm guitars, nineteen, wasn’t as stoned as the rest of them were. Mello thought Matt didn’t really care much for drugs but did them just due to his inability to say no and that was characteristic of an easily influenced person. Mello guessed Matt had never taken initiative in his own life, probably too laid back to do so, and had life handed to him on a silver platter. Fortunately, Matt had hobbies besides getting stoned or playing guitars. The redhead spent sober time, which totaled up to three-fourth of the day, more impressive than anyone else in the band, on his laptop either gaming or reading long texts that Mello never got the chance to peek at or practicing his guitar. Matt didn’t talk much, did what he was asked to do and didn’t come off as a dysfunctional retard either. Mello still hated him though. He contributed to the system that Mello hated so much. He’s still a spoilt little bitch. He thought.

“Mello, you’re like our age, aren’t you?” Mello looked up at Madison who faked a flirtatious face at him.

“Depends on how old you are.”

“Hold on a minute!” Matt butted in. Mello could smell the alcohol on him but then he wasn’t sure if it was Matt or everything in the bus that smelled of alcohol. “I can guess Mello’s age.”

“Matt can do it.” Jerry raised a bottle.

“Yes he can.” Jamie followed.

“Let’s see how accurate you are then, Matt.” Joey folded his arms.

Matt cleared his throat and stood up holding on to a seat with one hand and a bottle of beer in the other and stared at Mello. Mello cocked at eyebrow at Matt, eyes staring at his goggles trying to stop himself from ripping them off his eyes. What does he have to hide behind there anyways? He thought.

“Mello is….nin…no…twenty. Mello is twenty.” He raised his arms awaiting approval and applause.

“He’s right. I’m twenty.” Mello admitted causing the rest to let out a cry of celebration.

“Hey don’t you like smoke up or whatever?” Madison, much to Mello’s dismay, kept giving him unwanted attention.

“No. I don’t do any sort of drugs. I drink but not too often either. I like being in control.”

Matt pointed a swaying finger at him. “I get what you mean, man.” His bottle slammed against his knee. “I get want you mean. Stay clean.”

“Yeah stay clean and leave the booze for us.” Jerry joked.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Later that night, nothing had changed much except for Matt. Mello had noticed how he picked up his laptop and just separated himself from the rest of the band. He decided Matt would be a more sane choice of person to hang out with at the moment and since he was stuck on a bus with them he might as well go sit with Matt instead of the rest.

“Hey.” He approached the redhead. “Mind if I sit across from you?”

“Go ahead.” Matt smiled up at the blonde. He had been waiting for Mihael to update his story. Much to his dismay, it had been a week since it had been updated. And on this day, again, Matt sat at the laptop in hopes that there might be an end to that silence. He had taken to calling the person on the other end Mihael, the name of the story’s main character, because he couldn’t think of any other way to call him. He was almost sure however that Mihael was a fictional character. Still, it made him look up at Mello and wonder what kind of a life he had led. 

Matt watched as Mello stared at fast moving lights and shadows of the highway through the window. He seemed untouchable in his own world. Upon focusing on his eyes, Matt found himself surprised. The icy cold he had seen in Mello’s eyes before was pretty much gone, replaced by softness and depth, even a fragility of sorts, like that of water. Matt smiled as Mello tied his hair back in a rough ponytail, his fringe still in place along with a few loose strands of hair falling around his jaw. 

Mello pulled out his laptop. 

“The bus has its own wifi network, in case you want to connect to the internet.” Matt pointed out.

“I know. I arranged the bus remember?” Mello replied. “But no thanks. I’ve got my own broadband.”

Matt turned his attention to his own laptop wondering if he was going to be reading more about Mihael today. He tried hacking in again. He was in.

>   
> **M’s Computer. Date: 13th April 2009.**  
>  Sometimes I feel like a hypocrite. I contribute to the system that I wish to uproot and yet when I see people getting high on drugs I feel they shouldn’t contribute to it. Sometimes I find my mind arguing with me. “Isn’t the supplier contributing just as much as the buyer?” But then I find myself thinking that if there was no demand, there wouldn’t be a supply. Isn’t that how markets work?
> 
> Churning the thought over and over in my head I feel it isn’t a matter of supply or demand or a matter of waiting for one of the two to die out. That cycle is never ending. It’ll continue and there’s nothing one self-absorbed fuck like me can do anything about. What I can do, however, is quit. But I refuse to. Not because I’m pressured, but because I’ve tried and they find me. I’ve gone to the police a few times. Did you know a good number of police officers take bribes? Yeah. I tried to look for help. I turned myself in but they have their contacts in the government sectors as well. 
> 
> I’d reach the police station and there would already be someone expecting me to turn up.
> 
> “It’s going to be okay.” They’d say. “Wait here.”
> 
> Half an hour I’d find myself being beaten by a group of Grey’s hoodlums, my coworkers, in the parking lot till I cough up blood and pass out of severe blood loss. It’s not that I can’t defend myself. But how in the world is ten-on-one fair?
> 
> I’d wake up in a hospital afterwards. Apparently they spent too much money on me to simply let me die.
> 
> The world isn’t half as clean as you think when you’re growing up. Things aren’t half as simple. And for the past one and a half year, ever since my teenage hormones began to settle, I haven’t even tried to run away.
> 
> Everything leads back to the same statement; I am alone in this world.
> 
> Even as a drug dealer who meets people on a daily basis I feel alone. The only relationship between a stoner and a dealer is that of business and it lasts as long as the dealer can provide.
> 
> You’d think that dealers have a lot of fun but no we don’t. Why, you ask? Because we have no friends. We’re just middle-men. The stoners will stick around so long as we have the stash. Our bosses will stick around so long as we have cash. [And really who the hell wants to bear their heart to their boss?] No one will stick around just to get to know us and even if they ask a bit about us when they’re stoned, they sure as fuck won’t remember it when they’re sober again.
> 
> Sometimes I wonder if anyone would notice if I die. I know. I know. It’s such a pathetic thought but I can’t help but wonder. Sometimes I think I’d lie there for days rotting away before someone notices the smell of my body falling apart. Even if I’m around people, I’m sure that would be the case since these people are so obviously too stoned to notice anything.
> 
>  

Matt found the shudder in his back rather unsettling. _It’s a story._ He told himself. _Just a story._

But no matter how many times he repeated it to himself, he couldn’t believe it. It sounded more like a memoir, a brain-barf of untamed thoughts flowing uncontrollably. He decided to look through Mihael’s files.

Careful not to leave traces he looked around the writer’s files which to his surprise weren’t as easy to access as his writings. What he finds in Mihael’s folders, however, astonished him even more. Everything on his hard drive was neat and categorized. Even the unsorted files were in a folder called “sort later”. The other folders were labeled Ammo, Psychology, Law, Organic Chemistry, Psychology and Physics. The only leisure item on the hard drive, besides the compulsory Solitaire, was a folder full of detective stories. Matt stared. It was exactly what he would’ve expected to find in Mihael, the character’s, hard drive. He stared at the folders labeled Organic Chemistry and Physics. Mihael had specifically mentioned he enjoyed them. 

_Can it be…?_ He thought. _Could it really be real?_

“We’re here.” Matt looked up upon hearing Mello’s voice. Too stunned to stop thinking about what he had just deduced Matt looked out of the window and noticed they had pulled into the parking lot of a hotel.

Matt was barely aware of logging out of Mihael’s files, shutting his laptop and making his way to the hotel with the rest of the band.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It had been an hour since Mello had checked the band into the hotel. He had afterwards made his way outside to get some time away and to find Rod’s contact in this town and receive next week’s stash. Mello refrained from carrying a good load on himself as any sane person should.

The night was a tad bit cold and Mello was grateful for his coat. He pulled at the fur lined collar as he made his way back to the reception of the hotel.

“1302, Rod Ross.” He said to the receptionist. He had taken the habit of signing into places using Rod’s cards beforehand. Being non-existent gave him comfort and Rod didn’t mind all that much.

The receptionist handed him the keys and he hastily made his way to the ajar elevator doors. He had booked the entire floor for himself, Jack and the band. Rock parties could make a shitload of noise.  
 _Ding!_ The elevator had reached the thirteenth floor. Mello made his way outside, tossing his keys from one hand to another. He looked up and saw Jack deep in conversation with a sly looking Joey and a giggling Madison. Mello slowed down.

“I don’t think you need to worry about it.” Jack said to the two. “I can arrange it.”

“Yay!” Madison hopped and hugged Joey.

“You’re the man.” Joey gave Jack a fist bump and the two left.

Mello reached Jack at this point.

“What was that about?” He asked.

“None of your business.” Jack smiled.

“It isn’t?”

“I’m here to keep an eye on you, not the other way around.” Jack pointed out with a sneer. “You make sure you do your job right.”

With that Mello was finally rid of the wrinkled face and round glasses though he wasn’t sure if he was okay with that or not.

**Moral: Expect the unexpected.**


	4. Obsessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter there Mello rants twice. The second rant is divided into two parts. The first part starts with **M's Computer. [Date]** and the second part starts with **M's Computer. [Date]. [Continued.]**

## OBSESSIONS

**Date: 14th April 2009.**

Matt let his back slam against his chair and spun around in the chair indifferently looking around his room. Out of all the members of the band, his was the only single room. Jerry and Jamie shared the room next to his. Joey and Maddie were in the room across and Larry’s room was next to theirs. Mello’s room was on the other end of the corridor and Jack’s room was across from Mello’s.

He hadn’t had a single moment of sleep since they had checked in. He hadn’t had a drink or a single joint in a long while and although a part of him was craving the earthly smell of it, he wanted to think at the moment. He had contemplated smoking up and then starting his search for Mihael, knowing that weed can actually increase one’s concentration. He still decided against it for fear that he might not have the type of trip he wanted.

He had felt so aware of everything all night. He had heard the rolling bottles in the twins’ room. They had been talking to each other all night. Matt hadn’t been able to help but laugh when he noticed they were both drunk and were making no sense. Matt had even heard Maddie and Joey talk to Jack in the other end of the corridor but he hadn’t been able to make out what they had been talking about. Later he had heard footsteps, brisk precise and steady walking out of the elevator and he had almost been able to taste Mello’s presence. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but Mello had a presence, one that demanded attention, one that provoked him into readiness. Mello had exchanged more indecipherable words with Jack and then left for his own room. Matt had wondered what Mello looked like when he slept for a split second before brushing the thought aside.

But for all of his awareness of everything around him, at this point, Matt only cared or thought about one person; Mihael. He thought back to everything he had read about Mihael; three rants. _Rants._ He whispered to himself, ripping his goggles off his tired eyes and letting his face fall into his hands. _That’s what they were._

He threw his goggles at the desk and they skidded for a mere second. The night was growing lighter, making way for dawn but Matt couldn’t get himself to be humbled by its beauty. He kept thinking about Mihael. 

Mihael had wanted to reach out to someone, wanted someone to hear him and Matt had. But what angered him was that he had heard Mihael but he hadn’t listened.

 _How could I be so numb?_ He thought. _Why did the thought of checking if it was real never cross me before?_

Since the realization on the previous day Matt had been hacking into every passport and identification establishment he could find but he couldn’t find a Michael or Mihael that fit his idea of Mihael. Some of them were too old or too young or had both parents or were well-established doctors or something of the sort. It irked him. He had tried telling himself that it was proof that Mihael wasn’t real but he knew he would be lying to himself if he said he believed that. His own real name, Mail Jeevas, was written down nowhere.

As far as Matt knew, he was originally British, though he remembered nothing of the place. Abandoned at age four and found by people belonging to an American charity program in the same year, he had no solid recollection of his parents and had been brought up in an American boy’s home in the States. All he knew was that the inside of the sneakers he had been wearing for so long had the name Mail Jeevas written in smudged ink. He recalled knowing that Mail was his name. How he knew it, he himself couldn’t tell.

The people at the boy’s home had named him Matt, for whatever reason. It wasn’t even Matthew, just Matt. His official papers bore some other fancy names he had created himself once he grew up. He had once passed himself off as a redheaded Link. He was just that good at making fakes and he did it for laughs.

Knowing how ambiguous his own identity was, he doubted Mihael, who felt the need to lie about his name, wouldn’t be just as illusive.

 _I can’t accept defeat._ He thought. He found it strange but he felt something for Mihael. Every time he revised the things he knew about Mihael in his head it seemed as though he needed to do something about it. He could never say he understood Mihael’s circumstances but he understood that Mihael needed a way out. Therefore, he had spent so much time looking for him but to no result.

Sighing Matt, pulled his goggles back on and decided to leave his gloomy room.

Reaching downstairs he absentmindedly handed his key to the receptionist as his eyes fell on Mello. He could see him, talking animatedly on the phone, through the glass doors of the hotel.

Matt thought of the latest of Mihael’s rants he had read. He remembered the bit about the relationship between a dealer and the client.

 _“The stoners will stick around so long as we have the stash……No one will stick around just to get to know us and even if they ask a bit about us when they’re stoned, they sure as fuck won’t remember it when they’re sober again.”_ Mihael had said.

Matt thought of his relationship with Mello and realized Mihael was right. Now that Matt didn’t want to be high he wasn’t even speaking to Mello and he couldn’t remember figuring out anything about Mello from when he was high, besides his age.

 _No. I think Mello seems cool. I am genuinely interested in knowing him._ He thought. _Then why haven’t you tried?_

Matt sighed. He hated it when his own brain seemed to argue with him. But it was the truth. He hadn’t tried to speak much with Mello. I probably should try. He decided. Who knows I might like what I find out.

He took a deep breath and took a few steps towards the door. Something about Mello made it seem like he needed to prepare before he spoke. Like Mello would handcuff him and say “anything you say can be held against you.” _I wouldn’t mind him being held against me._ He stopped in his tracks realizing what he had thought and lay a light slap on his own face. _Mail Jeevas you need to be shot for even thinking that._

He had thought it though. Mello was attractive after all. He had nice long legs that were wrapped in tight white jeans at the moment and his waist and arms were catching some orange from the rising sun. His hair shone gold like the sun itself. And even in his anger and extremely animated gestures he still spoke and moved with control and style, unmatched by any Matt had ever met. And even all of that was a list of understatements. But Matt didn’t know much about Mello’s personality besides his extremely in control attentive behavior and that’s why he felt Mello was just physically attractive.

For most people that would be enough, but not for Matt. He thought of what Larry kept reminding him. _Get drunk and fuck bitches._ For most people it was just that simple and though Matt had done that on several occasions he needed the woman [or man] he’d have a one night stand with to be an actual prostitute for him to do it without wanting to be involved with them. 

_I don’t want Mello._ He forced the thought on himself and continued towards the door . _…….yet._

“So, Mello.” He tried to start a conversation. “You seem sober as fuck. What’s up?”

Mello only noticed him when he spoke. Saying a fast “I’ll call you back” into the phone he ended the call.

“I thought I told you already,” Mello raised an eyebrow. “I don’t do drugs.”

“Oh you did? Sorry.” Matt felt guilty. Mihael had been right. He didn’t know what he had talked to Mello about when he was high. “So, just out of curiosity, how do you know if your stash is good if you don’t try it?”

Mello squinted a bit at Matt, lips curving slightly into a small smile. 

“One, I’ve been hired by a group of wealthy suppliers. They won’t push anything that’s bad. Not good for the reputation and reputation is everything y’see? And two, I can always ask Jack to check and make sure. Three, I don’t really give a fuck. So long as you pay me, why should I care what you’re huffing? But that’s just because I don’t like drugs very much. My boss cares, I can assure you, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“You know point number three made you sound like a horrible dealer, right?” Matt gave Mello a smug grin.

Mello cocked a brow. “You think I care?”

“You should. And you should be careful what you say Mello. You might end up pissing the wrong person off.” Matt genuinely wanted Mello to be careful. His fiery behavior could get him into trouble.

Mello looked at something in the distance smile turning into a smirk. “It wouldn’t matter. What’s the worst that could happen? I’d be disposed of. Nothing for you to worry about. I’d be replaced by someone soon enough.”

“But Mello seems too cool to lose.” Matt grinned at Mello and whispered. “I’d rather have you as my dealer than someone like Jack. You seem so much more interesting.”

“Is the notion that you find me interesting the reason why you forgot that I had told you that I don’t do drugs?” Mello smirked at Matt. “If I’m that forgettable, I don’t think I do a very good job at being interesting.”

“I was high.”

“Yeah….I know…..And what does that say about the life you’re leading?” Mello leaned in. “You’re a musician Matt, a nineteen year old musician with so many things to experience around you.  
You’re on top of the food chain and what are you doing with yourself?”

“I’m a guitarist, a rockstar, a ball of charisma.” Matt counted, trying to defend himself.

“No, love.” Mello rested his back against the glass doors, folding his arms, smirk still in place. “You’re a waste of space. Your charisma can go fuck itself. When you die of an overdose, like they all do, your charisma won’t matter. You’ll always be the ugly corpse that drowned in its own puke.”

Matt’s lips parted but no words came out. He was angry, infuriated. As cool and everything he thought Mello seemed, he had a dirty mouth and who the hell did he think he was anyway telling him he wasn’t leading a good life? Mello was different from Mihael. Matt imagined Mihael to be soft hearted and broken. Mello on the other hand was a pouncing cat with a pain in its ass. All  
Mello was good for was pointing out the errors in everyone else and that self-righteous behavior pissed Matt off. If it had been Mihael, Matt thought, he would’ve been softer with Matt. _I suppose I can’t think they’re all pitiable just because of Mihael._ He concluded.

“You’re a fucking drug dealer.” Matt pointed out. “What the fuck does that say about the life you’re leading?”

Mello’s brows creased but he chose not to speak. If he could he would’ve yelled his life in the redhead’s face but he couldn’t. 

Mello stomped through the hallway rushing to the elevator. He cussed Matt all the way to hell and back and then back again in his head. 

_How dare he?_ He thought, mouth twisting with the bitter taste Matt’s words had left in it. _What does he know? Fucking goggled ginger freak!_

He was half tempted to ruin Matt’s stash and mix some itching powder in it. _That’d teach the freak._ He thought. _He’ll learn not to mess with me when he smokes itching powder._

_Ding!_

The elevator reached thirteen. He stomped to his room thinking of his bar of chocolate.

Once inside his own neatly minimalistic room he dove straight for his chocolate. He finished one and the another and another. It usually helped but it wasn’t helping. His eyes fell on his laptop and he went for it. At first all that came out was just a rush of jumbled letters due to him slamming his fingers randomly over the keys. Then he calmed himself. He needed to let it out, constructively.

> **M’s Computer. Date: 14th April 2009.**
> 
> Phew! Okay….I just want to generalize everything I’m feeling at this moment because it does me no good to take one person’s comments too seriously.
> 
> I wish I could get out of here. I wish I could leave this place. I think that much must be obvious by now. I need not say it. I want to leave this business of blind pleasure, this underworld, these lies and probably even this country.
> 
> I wasn’t born here. I didn’t grow up here. I’m originally British raised in Winchester England. After a couple of months of working under Grey I was brought to the States. Grey felt a tad bit threatened living in England in those times and felt he could “expand his market” here in the States. That’s when he had moved, along with a good number of his underlings, myself included, and Gareth.
> 
> I actually want to go back to England. I feel the need to go back to what it felt like to not know how cruel it can get out there. I miss the horrible grey weather….yes I do…the colorful English slang and the sound of bells, the cobblestones, the smell of rain…….I say I miss it because I remember enjoying it. I don’t remember what it was like though. I can’t recall. Whatever the case, I still wish to go back….
> 
> …someday.

 

It was the shortest rant Mihael had ever typed down but probably the most motivational one for Matt. He could barely believe what he read. _It has to be fate._ Matt, who didn’t even know if he believed in such a thing as fate, thought. But it couldn’t have been a coincidence that Mihael was from England as well.

Matt thought about what it would be like if Mihael someday managed to make it back. An uncanny bliss fell over him. It would be the end of a struggle, an end of a journey, a nirvana to Mihael. _He deserves it._ He thought.

But then a fear struck him. _What if he never makes it? What if he dies somewhere like a dog when he deserves so much better? What if he dies full of regrets? What if he never gets to feel the cobblestones under his feet, hear the English slang and the sound of bells, or listen to the pitter patter of rain or watch the grey clouds pass by his window?_

Matt touched his cheek realizing how moved he was by Mihael’s words. He sat up straight. _I need to see him, to meet him,_ He thought wiping away his tears. _To give him whatever little happiness I can. I fail as a human being if I don’t. I must, I absolutely must meet him._

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**Date: 15th April 2009.**

The cheers of the crowd could be heard all the way in Matt’s dressing room as he pretended not to hear it while he tuned his guitar. According to Larry it was a fest of people out there. The twins told him different. They said Larry was over-exaggerating to lift their spirits. It was still the biggest gig Matt had ever played at. But The Bombs had started out not long ago and hence their fans weren’t exactly a huge number. It was still bigger than Matt had expected.

“Matt?” Jerry’s head peered through the door. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m going to die.” He admitted pretending to sob.

Jerry laughed. “I thought you’d say so.” He walked in followed closely by a widely grinning Jamie.

“Yeah, Matty, we thought you’d be a bunch of nerves.” Jamie chimed in.

“I swear I barely remember our jamming session from yesterday.” Matt whined. “I mean I can play but oh the knots in my stomach.” He heard another cheer. “And I swear I’ll die if I hear them yell again.”

Jerry put an arm around Matt’s shoulders. “Do you know what Mello gave us this morning?” He asked dangling a small plastic bag in front of Matt’s face clearly carrying a few hand rolled joints. Strangely, Matt felt reluctant to smoke one with the twins. The thought of Mihael made him want to avoid the situation. 

“You know what to do.” Jamie said pulling one of the joints out.

_Well, one wouldn’t kill anyone._

Matt realized that the twins only wanted to make him feel better. Ever since he had met the band after Larry had made the deal with him, the twins had been the only people he had been able to rely on. Joey and Larry only ever pushed him around. All they ever did was tell Matt what he should and shouldn’t do. And it was Larry who had pushed Matt his first ever dash of drug. 

“Matt, you need this.” He had said. “It’ll open you to worlds, put you above all these normal people. They’ll be at your feet, worshipping you.”

Joey had never taken Matt’s voice into account when writing a song. Even when Matt tried to show talent and write his own music, Joey simply threw away his drafts and go on with whatever he felt was right.

“Are you stupid?” Joey would ask whenever Matt would improvise on stage. “If you can’t follow then go back to the shit hole you came from.”

Maddie was no different. She treated him like the heel of shoes she no longer needed. Matt had thought she hated him but realized it was just the way she was, when she had asked him to spend a night with her. He had refused. He hated her. 

The twins, however, were good hearted. They would come to him after the jamming sessions and tell him to ignore Joey. They’d make fun of Joey, imitate him when he walked by. Sometimes Jamie would pretend to be Maddie and Jerry would be Joey and they’d act out a little skit about the two.

“Fuck me, Joey, fuck me hard.” Jamie would moan bending over, rags stuffed in his shirt for breasts. Matt would laugh his head off, often falling out of his chair as soon as Jerry would spank Jamie and say, “If you can’t be a good whore, go back to the cunt you came from.”

No matter what they did, Matt still had felt the need to please his band mates. He had tried his level best to be like them, to prove that he could be like them if he wanted to. Looking back, he felt stupid for having done that.

 _Last one, Mihael._ He thought as he took the lit joint from Jamie’s hand and sucked on it. _Last one, I promise._

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Mello shifted in his seat as the waiter brought him his coffee. He was still agitated about Matt’s comments from the previous morning. He had spent the entire day avoiding Matt, which had been easy. Matt had been practicing all day. He hadn’t left the jamming studio for anything save a sandwich and to make an occasional visit to the loo. Mello was surprised he hadn’t asked for a joint either.

Realizing halfway through the day that Matt had no intention of leaving the jamming studio even when his band mates had left for lunch, Mello had quietly crept upstairs and sat in the recording room of the studio. He knew Matt wouldn’t be aware of him despite the glass in the wall. Fortunately for Mello, the glass separating them was a one way mirror. 

So he had sat there and watched Matt play. He played well and Mello needed no one to tell him that. The song sent goose bumps running over Mello’s back. He felt like he was in a movie with the perfect background music. 

Mello noticed how fast Matt’s fingers worked across the fretboard, how he kicked at the floor when he got something wrong, and how he lidded his eyes relishing a riff that he managed to get right. Mello envied him for being seated there with nothing to worry about except getting a song right. _I want that._ Mello thought. _I want to want something simple._

The band had then returned from their lunch and Mello’s eyes narrowed as he watched Matt jump out of his trance, stiffen and stop the song he was playing. 

“What were you playing?” Joey had asked to which Matt had shrugged and muttered a “nothing”.

Matt started playing again but he never played the same song again.

Sitting at the diner, after refusing to follow the band to the concert, using the purchase of more stash as an excuse, Mello felt angry at Matt, angry that he had so much to waste. But most of all he was angry that he couldn’t be someone like Matt, someone as carefree as Matt.

He peeled his laptop open and began typing.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When the joint was nothing but ash, the crowd was still cheering waiting for the show to begin. Matt felt calm, even blissful, like he was walking on clouds, as he made his way to the stage. Perhaps it was the cannabis taking effect but for a while he was at peace with himself and his band and the world. _It’s not all that bad a place._ He thought. _It’s fine really. Mihael would be okay if he were here. He could stay with me for as long as he wanted and I’d teach him to chill the fuck out._

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

>   
> **M’s Computer. Date: 15th April 2009.**
> 
> I know I said yesterday that I would rather generalize things but right now, right now everything I feel is against one person and one person alone.
> 
> Matt.
> 
> I don’t even know what else. It’s just Matt.
> 
> He’s not like the people he’s around it’s so obvious a blind person could see it. Joey’s a poser jerk that does drugs just because he thinks it cool. Larry is no different. Madison is in it for the boys. I mean everyone thinks rockers are good in bed and so far I feel Madison screams “take me” in every way besides actually screaming it, which also happens but only when she’s had ecstasy.
> 
> I agree the twins are quite alright. I do despise the fact that they contribute to the mess of a system I hate but for the sake of the argument I’m about to raise against Matt at least, at least, the twins are doing what they want.
> 
> Matt, Matt the jerk, Matt the asshole, Matt the brainless, Matt the doormat, doesn’t even want this. He doesn’t want this band, this fame, these drugs. He just does it. I don’t even understand why. Why is he doing this to himself? Doing what the rest want of him with no thought to what he wants to do…..
> 
>  

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Meanwhile, Matt felt the effect of his shared joint wearing off. He became very aware of the crowd, of the faces looking up at him, the guys pointing the devil horns at him with respect and the girls groping at him. He felt fear slowly creep into his veins. _Do I deserve to be looked up to?_ He thought but his fingers moved without a pause over the fretboard sending waves of sound spreading over the crowd. 

He looked around the stage. Maddie was singing as well as she could, making quite the spectacle of herself on stage as she dragged her body on the stage floor. Joey was surrounded by cheering girls tugging at his pants. Jerry was in a trance. Eyes closed, he hit at the drums with such energy that he sent sprays of his sweat flying all over. Jamie was next to Matt, sweat dripping from his wet flattened hair. His wet neck glared under the spotlights. He nodded and grinned at Matt and Matt felt somewhat comforted.

Matt noticed Jack on the side of the crowd, close to the hallway leading backstage. He craned his neck to look around but saw no traces of Mello. He felt a little part of him sink. The blonde hadn’t been around since their little argument and Matt felt that he could have redeemed a little respect in the blonde’s icy blue eyes if he had taken the time to watch Matt play. He would’ve at least managed to impress Mello a little bit. 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

>   
> **M’s Computer. 15th April 2009. [continued.]**
> 
> I don’t understand why anyone would do something they don’t want to when they have the freedom to do as they please. He has such potential. He’s a wonderful guitarist. And I’m not just saying that. It takes a lot to impress me and his skills have done so. But what the hell is he doing with himself? Why doesn’t he take a stand for himself?
> 
> If I was him I’d tell Joey and Maddie to fuck off. I’d start my own independent band, keep the twins in if they’re interested and make my living my own way. Even if I don’t get famous or earn a lot I’d be doing what I wanted to do.
> 
> He makes me want to rip his face off. His face, oh God his fucking face. I haven’t even seen all of it yet, what with those bloody goggles constantly in my way. But he seems to have a good face, nice and fucking round, tough jaw, and he’s got those annoying nice full lips, pale like a fucking ghost probably because of the lack of sunlight since Count Mattula barely ever goes out, nice broad shoulders for some bitch to put her arms around and firm hands for him to jack himself off. Overall, girls would definitely claw their eyes out for him. And someday he’d fall for one and

Mello stopped mid-sentence realizing the pang he felt and noticing how he really forgot the point he was trying to make in the last paragraph. He drew a sharp breath remembering how annoyed he had been about how beautiful Gareth had looked at that party all those years back, how he had wanted to rip Gareth’s smile off his face.

Mello’s eyes widened and he absentmindedly raised a hand to his lips, the only thing going through his head was; _It can’t be. It can’t be._

 

**Moral: There’s a thin line between love and hate.**


	5. Pride, Revenge and Rage

## PRIDE, REVENGE AND RAGE

Mello could barely believe that an entire floor was proving to be too small for The Bomb's after party. The band had, apparently, met up with friends, media representatives and producers after the show. Along with that the band had signed some merchandise which provided the perfect opportunity to pick up groupies from amongst their fans. Then their friends had called over more friends and Larry had called Mello to arrange for some lap dancers, prostitutes and a good amount of drugs, all kinds. And that's how this mess, that Mello was looking at, had happened.

Mello made sure he had locked his room door. He wanted no one going in there and touching his things. Jack's room being the largest was where most of the party was at. Well, that's where it was supposed to be but it had spread like an epidemic on the entire floor. The band was still in Jack's room, however. And therefore Mello made his way there ignoring the drunken attempts that several boys and girls made at him.

A girl stopped him in his tracks. She was clad in fishnets and leather, hair dyed blue, lips colored red, eyes powdered black. The black was running down her face. She smelt of alcohol so strongly that Mello was tempted to suffocate her just to stop the diffusion.

"Are you in a band?" she asked.

"No, I make sure the whores get clients. Want me to hook you up with someone?" Mello rolled his eyes and walked away.

"Mello!" Jerry called out, throwing a bottle and joint clad hand up in the air, when he noticed Mello in the doorway. "Come join us!"

"I'm trying to." Mello muttered. He'd much rather be locked in his room than be surrounded by people that mistake him for a sex machine but Jack had said he had to be there. Apparently, there was something to discuss with Larry later. And while he found everyone's assumption of him being a sex symbol rather flattering and entertaining, he had lots on his mind on that day.

Jerry had a girl tugging at his arm as he displayed a magic trick for her and a bunch of her friends. _Leave it up to the twins to actually try and charm women._ Mello thought. _Even though they're already more than halfway in the girls' pants._ Jamie wasn't too far off hitting on another girl using the exact same trick as Jerry.

"Oh my God!" One of the girls around Jerry turned the other's attention towards something in a distance before Mello even had the chance to properly settle himself on the large red couch in front of the coffee table and watch Jerry's trick. Mello's eyes followed hers and found Matt. He felt his skin grow cold. "It's you!" she said, one hand on her chest trying to calm her heart. "Guys, it's him!" she turned towards her friends, the color of her cheeks changing, the grin on her lips tugging so far into her cheeks that Mello felt she'd end up tearing her mouth.

Matt never got a chance to speak. He barely reached the rest when the girl who had squealed, followed by a couple more, were right at him telling him how much they loved him and how they were huge fans. Mello rolled his eyes. _I don't like him_. He thought. _I need not overreact. I feel nothing but hatred for him. It's nothing._

And although he told himself that, the violent pang in his chest when the girl placed her arms on Matt's shoulders was simply undeniable but, still, all in Mello's head. It's not like anyone else noticed. So he could pretend it didn't happen.

"Matty! Matty! Matty!" Larry called with tenderness and excitement in his voice as he reached the redhead and gave Matt a hug brushing aside the girl. "So proud of you. You've finally learnt the ways. Great touch to the performance today. We won a number of sympathy points thanks to that short speech you gave on stage. I've got lots of calls for interviews."

"Yeah, that was a good touch, Matt." Jerry agreed momentarily looking up from his stack of cards.

"I mean did you see how wild the crowd went when you said that?" Larry continued making Matt look around in what looked like humility to Mello. "It could make you a bit of poster child you know that? The hope of the people!" Larry was staring excitedly into nothing and moving his hands as if making banners in the air. "Every orphan's dream!"

Mello's eyebrows moved up under his fringe as he turned to look at Matt.

"You're an orphan?" he asked just to make sure.

"Yeah…it's not that bad." Matt shrugged not meeting Mello's eyes, shifting his feet.

"He's not just any orphan!" Larry went on. "He's the hope-"

"How does an orphan land in the music industry?" Mello inquired ignoring Larry and realizing that he felt somewhat jealous of Matt at the moment.

"Well, I used to - I still - play a lot of video games and so my fingers move quite fast." He took a swig of the beer that Larry had handed him. "And once someone told me guitarists and bassists need fast fingers so I decided to try it out since I was bored. I got good at it and then Larry found me playing the guitar on one of his visits to my orphanage when I was like fifteen. Usually kids get adopted before they turn twelve but I was quite the troublemaker so I didn't stand a chance. So when he found me and said he would pay for me for a while so long as I can manage to pay him back, I took the gig. "

"Just as I had thought." Mello muttered under his breath.

"What had you thought?" Matt asked smiling at Mello, adjusting his goggles a bit and seating himself across Mello.

"You had your life handed to you. You did nothing to get where you are."

Matt frowned at the blonde. "Why're you always like this?" his eyebrows knit together as he folded his arms in a sort of defiance to the blonde. "Every conversation I have with you, you end up ruining it for me making me look like a useless halfwit."

"I assure you Matt I don't think of you as a halfwit….useless? Maybe." Mello remained contained though the mischievous smile spreading more across one of his cheeks than the other portrayed his amusement at being able to push Matt's buttons. "I just don't see why you won't use that brain in your head."

"I use it!"

"To do what? To make up a speech that's supposed to lift up the morale of orphan kids all over the world?" Mello sneered cocking his head up slightly. "Those kids don't need speeches. They need a place in the world, a home."

"You think I don't know what they need?" Matt half yelled at the blonde. "I was and am still one of them. I know better than you what they need."

_Yeah right. I have no idea what an orphan needs._ Mello glared daggers at Matt. "And what, pray tell, have you done about it?"

Matt found himself yet again at loss of words. He simply stared at Mello like a goldfish flapping his mouth as Mello sighed and rubbed his temples.

"I'm sorry for sounding harsh every time I talk to you." The blonde didn't look at Matt as he spoke, eyes still covered with the excuse of rubbing his temples. "I just don't understand why a person with so much potential and opportunities would waste his chances, let life pass him by, not stop what he could stop, not do what he could do. It's not even supposed to be about the greater good or anything. You could do something for yourself. But you're just wasting it all."

Matt stared hard at Mello, wondering if he had been scolded or complimented. He realized Mello was right. Politicians made great speeches every day. Very few kept their promises. He was the same. He had spoken out to the orphans of the world, asked them to hang on and one day things would get better. But what if they didn't get better for them? Matt, after all, had been lucky. What had Matt ever done for them to make such promises?

Mello was himself in awe of the words he had spoken. He could only imagine Matt's surprise. It was true, however. In all of his days watching the redhead, following him around for everything except his shows and the bathroom, Mello had heard Matt's jamming sessions, watched the way Matt played the guitar when he was on his own. Mello had even seen the way Matt played his video games and it didn't take a genius to realize that Matt was smart and had immense potential.

Matt found himself wondering if the blonde was right and he really was wasting himself, staring at his pint of beer, tapping fingers on the cold wet glass. He couldn't place what he felt for Mello. On one hand, Mello was a rude bitch and on the other, he was right. He felt a strange need to prove himself to Mello like he needed to live up to Mello's expectations. Perhaps it was the fact that every other person he met had been so remarkably easy to impress so now that he had met someone that wasn't, he simply needed to impress him.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The party raged on and Matt felt surrounded. He literally was. There were girls around him, giggling and talking to him about something he couldn't or didn't want to grasp. A couple were going far enough to rub his thighs as he sipped his beers and tried to have a conversation that didn't involve drugs or sex. His pants were getting hot and he felt he could sink himself into the soft brushes of hands around him but every time he did he felt he was being a hypocrite. He didn't want the girls around him. It just all felt wrong. He found it worse that he couldn't tell the difference between the prostitutes and lap dancers Mello had arranged and the girls from the crowd that they had called backstage. It made him a tad bit sick.

He had been avoiding drugs the entire night. And seeing everyone around him high and drunk he felt odd and tempted. Several times he almost let his hand fly towards the batch of joints in front of him but his hand would hover over them and the thought of Mihael would come close to suffocating him and he'd pull back and take another swig of his beer. Thankfully, he could hold his liquor.

It was bugging him though, the smell of grassy weed all around him, the girls next to him sweating in ecstasy, biting and licking their lips as soon as Matt glanced at them. He noticed a couple of girls not too far away from him. One was kneeling in front of another, sticking a needle in the other's thigh. The other girl was seated in a chair, legs spread open, letting her head fall back. It was almost erotic; the way the kneeling girl crouched in front of the other, sticking her hips so far out that Matt could make out her gash through her fishnet leggings as her almost non-existent skirt stuck up so invitingly. The other girl moaned as the needle punctured her skin finding pleasure in the pain. The liquid went swimming into her body and the girl administering it sniffed a line of coke off of the other's thigh.

Everything looked painfully tempting to Matt, even the things he'd rather never do. The girl next to him moved her hand painfully close to his crotch. She licked at his ear and offered him a shotgun of her joint. He wanted it so he could let the bliss and high take over him and let her pleasure him in ways he hadn't ever imagined before.

But he thought of Mihael and all the trouble he had been through. He thought of how Mihael spoke of supply and demand and felt that he wanted to have nothing to do with drugs and as little as possible to do with anything that Mihael wouldn't like. Oddly, he felt even sex with another would mean betrayal of Mihael's trust, a trust he realized he didn't even have. He felt he was being ridiculous but a part of him felt committed to Mihael, like he could save himself until he met the illusive man behind the words that enlightened him and opened him up to a whole new world. It was a silly thought, like that of a blossoming girl with head full of dreams. But he knew it wasn't just Mihael. He himself couldn't stand having sex for pleasure. It was pleasurable of course but Matt felt it needed passion and love for it to feel pleasurable for him. Otherwise it was just an awkward orgasm.

Then it hit him. _Mello!_ He thought, eyes widening with realization of his only refuge. _I'm sure I could hang with Mello without being tempted._

He looked around the room, craning his neck, realizing that he hadn't seen the blonde in a while.

"Don't you want some?" The girl next to him pulled at his chin so he'd face her. The pain she sent through it along with his temptation annoyed him. He pushed away her hand without replying and got up.

"Where're you going?" she pleaded tugging at his arm, pulling it so that it stuck between her soft lace-up corset clad breasts. For a second Matt thought he'd sit right back, but he didn't. "I need to go somewhere." He said yanking her hands off of his arm. He looked around for Mello in the room. The bottles on the floor often knocked over by his step. He felt he barely recognized anyone there and he didn't. His eyes searched for a familiar face, someone to make him feel calm, to take him someplace quiet and tell him he didn't need that grassy smoke consuming him.

He felt like a child for a second, lost in a sight out of an erotic movie. The sights before him were of tainted pleasure. There was no such thing as privacy or dignity. He saw a naked girl kneeling on her knees giving a man head, while another man licked her dripping wet cunt making her quiver and moan uncontrollably. Another short spiky haired girl sucked so violently at another's breasts that Matt found it amazing they didn't just pop. Behind the doors a man was handling what looked to be a boy no older than Matt himself. He groped at the boy's balls making him whine in pain as he violently rammed his fingers in his backside. Matt looked away. He didn't personally mind it. He found it somewhat erotic but felt he didn't need to see it at the moment.

He spotted Jamie raping a girl's breasts with his mouth and almost ambushed the brunette.

"Jamie!" Matt grabbed at his shoulders.

"Oh hey there Matty." Jamie was drunk and drooling. His eyes were bloodshot. The veins on his temple was bulging and throbbing. "If I'm not mistaken, dude, y'look a tad bit sober."

"Have you seen Mello?" Matt inquired ignoring Jamie's remark.

"Not r'lly." Jamie answered, pulling the shirtless girl towards him. "Last I'saw Jack was taking him ta see Larry in Joey's room. Sumfin' 'bout some 'portant business deal or somefin'." Jamie waved his hands in the air, brows knotting in concentration as he thought of the not-so-distant memory. "Hey, did I tell you I had a few drinks wif Mello? Yes, I did." Jamie nodded, his eyes bulged as he acknowledged his achievement. "He don't get drunk, duuude. He's like s'per brain powa or somfin'. I'on't even know. 'n' even with all zis poonani 'round, he don't wanna taste. Thought he might like cock but the guy don't even try the Johnsons in the house. 'sup wif that, huh?"

"Don't know, Jamie, but you take care yeah?" Matt helped Jamie lean into the girl as he slurred about how he was fine. "I think you had too many."

"'tis ne'er too many man!" Jamie lay a light fist bump on Matt's shoulder, head leaning on the girl's shoulder.

"I'm going to look for Mello. You take care." Matt said, returning the bump and turning to leave.

He crossed by several already passed out people in the hallway and chose to ignore the smell of vomit in the air. A few girls tried to get his attention but he paid them no heed. He wanted to get to Mello. Whatever the meeting was about he wanted to be next to Mello in it. _I don't mind bearing with any and all of his insults tonight._ He thought. _He doesn't mean to be harsh. He just has a dirty mouth. I can put up with it._ He headed straight towards Joey's room and pushed aside the wooden doors.

He felt as though the ground had burst open from under his feet, like his heart had already gotten sucked into the void left in the ground, like his body was unlucky to have been left behind. His back turned cold and the piercing pain in his chest became the only proof that what he saw was actually real.

There were only four people in the room; Larry, Joey, Madison and Mello. They were all people Matt had grown accustomed to seeing but never like this.

A naked Mello was kneeling on the coffee table so low that his back was parallel to the table itself. Sweat was beading on his body. His hands were bound behind his back and his legs stretched wide apart. Joey stood proud and naked behind Mello. He forced his erection inside Mello's behind fast and hard making the blonde shut his eyes. Joey's head was falling backwards in his trance but that didn't stop him from turning Mello's backside red as he showered it with slaps.

Larry stood right in front of Mello, urging his manhood deeper into Mello's open mouth, tugging at Mello's hair so harshly that Mello's head yanked backwards at an awkward angle. Madison was on the floor, legs spread wide open, raping every detail of the scene between the three men with her eyes. She pushed two fingers into her mouth moaning as she pushed a toy deeper inside her swollen wet sheath.

"Ah!" Mello moaned in pain as Larry drew out of his mouth. Tears rolled out of his eyes mixing with sweat and spit and whatever else stained his body. But he tried to keep a straight face. _I'm not going to beg._ He thought. _I'll keep whatever little broken piece of dignity I have left._ Saliva dripped wet from his lips, staining his chin and dripping onto the table. He shut his eyes trying to block out what his body was feeling but it was all too intense to ignore. He couldn't ignore the pain in his hands where the rope ate into his skin and the ache rising in his shoulders and knees unaccustomed to being put under such strain. But worst of all the slamming of flesh on his backside, the uncomfortable stretching of his ring muscles where the manhood ravaged him again and again. It had been years since he'd had to do anything of the sort but he had to do as told. There hadn't been much choice.

Jack had pulled him aside and said Larry and Joey wanted to see him. He had followed Jack into Joey's room where the three had tackled him. He had tried to flee, kicked at them and elbowed them but Jack had managed to twist his arm behind his back and pin his front against a wall.

"They asked specifically for you." Jack had whispered in his ears, pressing his smelly body against Mello's. "I have a needle right here with me." He had continued, uncapping a syringe to reveal a needle. "It's your choice. You either give them what they want and I'd give you twenty-five percent of what you earn or I drug you and they do as they please with your limp body and Ross gets all the money."

To Mello getting drugged would've been the easy way out. He would barely feel being ravaged and he would never know just how far they went. But Mello wouldn't have it the easy way. He was a person of principle and he'd prefer doing one of two things he hated over two things he hated.

Even though Mello had been hired for pleasure before, he still never got used to it. His flesh felt like it would crawl away from him, abandoning him. His pride felt ruined and broken and his heart undeniably needed a savior, a warm touch instead of the rough cold yanking. He hated feeling like he needed someone. He preferred doing things on his own. But he had learnt his lesson very early. No one can survive alone in this world.

A part of him wanted to plead but he was afraid that it would add to their pleasure. So he stubbornly tried to remain stubborn. Larry slapped his manhood against Mello's mouth but he kept it shut. _No more for fuck's sake!_ He wanted to yell, to scream, to shoot them. No. That would be too easy. He wanted to peel their skins off their bodies, hang them on hooks and watch the drops of blood pitter patter onto the floor. Perhaps let the blood shower over himself, purge his hatred and anger away. He wanted it to rain their blood. Not just Larry's and Joey's and Madison's but Jack's, Rod's, Grey's, Gareth's and his own parents' for abandoning him. But most of all he wanted Gareth's. Every fiber of his body wanted break Gareth's bones, make him beg for mercy. And when he'd beg and plead Mello to end him, Mello would comply….but slowly and painfully. Never swift. Gareth didn't deserve it.

Larry took Mello's jaw in his hand and pressed in attempts to force the blonde's mouth open. But Mello remained stubborn and stood his ground until Larry's nails had dug deep enough to draw blood. It wasn't just sweat and spit and tears and pre-ejaculate that stained him now. It was also blood.

Matt stood watching in utter shock. He felt betrayed, wronged, cheated. He was furious. He wanted to walk in there and steal the blonde. Punch him until he knew that he was supposed to have been the one sane thing in this mess. Hit him until he realized that he was an idiot for not having made a move on Matt instead of the freaks in the room ruining him. _I would've been gentle. I would've loved him._ He thought. _Does he want to be treated like this? Does he like it? Does he like being treated like someone's slave?_

"Would you like to book him next?" A snaky voice in his ear made Matt jump out of his thoughts.

"What?" He stared at Jack in disbelief. _Is Mello... really a...whore?_ "I'd never want him!"

"The bulge in your pants says you're lying." Jack's venomous voice fell from his lips.

Matt looked down and there was no mistaking it. His pants had tightened around his crotch, demanding attention. And he couldn't deny it, the blonde still had the most beautiful body Matt had set his eyes on. He had a lean chest with pointy little pink nipples begging to be sucked at. His pelvic bones formed a subtle contour around his small navel. The cheeks of his behind were small and stained with a pink blush. Overall, Matt couldn't deny Mello's sex appeal or the fact that his body had responded to Mello's without a single touch from the blonde. But Mihael had taught him mind over matter, thought before action, self-improvement instead of self-destruction and Matt believed in the lessons he had learnt.

_Why did I ever think Mello was worth anything? Why did I ever want to impress him? Mello's a liar, a two-faced fraud. He thinks so highly of himself though he is no more than a toy_. He thought, pushing Jack aside and turning to leave. _He should be treated like one._

**Moral: Seeing is not believing.**


	6. The Game

## THE GAME

**Date: 16th April 2009.**

Matt stared at the screen hoping beyond all hope that Mihael would steal him from what he currently felt. Why he felt so betrayed even he couldn't quite explain. Perhaps, he thought of Mello as his only remaining link to a world where trivial things like love, hope and happiness weren't tainted by the animalistic urge for pleasure, money and a fucking good trip. Or perhaps he just wanted him.

But no matter how long he waited, it seemed like Mihael wasn't ranting tonight. Matt was tired as hell. His eyes were swollen from tiredness and all the alcohol he'd consumed in hopes to drown away the images from the previous day. The hangover was on him.

The previous night, he had turned away from Joey's room and gone for his own. There were a few couples getting busy in his room. He told the lot to "clean up and get the fuck out". Once they had all left, Matt had tried calming himself down but the thought of a specific naked beautiful blonde kept agitating him. He had shuffled in his bed for what felt like ages before he fell asleep.

He had dreamt of bliss and love that night. It was sunny and he recalled lying in someone's arms stretching his shoe-less feet in the grass. The grass was cool and damp. It tickled the underside of his feet and made him smile. He lay between someone's legs. He saw red through eyes lidded against the sun. He was leaning the back of his head on the "someone's" chest. He knew the "someone" was Mihael. He simply felt it. Soft arms snaked around his shoulders. His smile spread further. The red in front of his eyes darkened and the he felt shaded against the sun. He opened his eyes and smiled up at Mihael. He was beautiful. He had blue eyes like deep water, skin tanned a little in the sun and blonde hair that fell around his face like a curtain and over his forehead in a fringe.

Mihael smiled down at him and kissed his lips briefly, painfully briefly. He sat up and turned back to look at his lover. He took Mihael's face in his hands and kissed him tenderly, licked and plucked softly at his lips. Mihael smiled.

Matt pulled away.

"I love you." He told the blonde.

"I love you too." Mello replied.

He had woken up and slapped himself so hard he had turned his face red. He could barely believe he had dreamt of a Mihael that looked like Mello. He realized he had only slept for a couple of hours but he couldn't get himself to go back to sleep and had spent the rest of the night gaming and waiting for Mihael.

Matt left his seat and his laptop, giving up hopes of Mihael. He washed his face and decided to go for a walk. He needed to clear his head. He grabbed a fur lined beige coat that he zipped all the way so that it hid the lower half of his face, pulled on black leather gloves all the way to his elbows and left the room once he had perfectly placed his goggles on.

The aftermath of the party lay wide open before him when he stepped out of his room. A number of people lay passed out or asleep in the hallway. There was broken glass, puke and confetti among the many other liquids staining the floor, the walls and the ceiling. Matt carefully maneuvered his way around the bodies and made his way towards the elevator. He tried to avoid glancing at Joey's room. He didn't want to look at it ever again. He'd rather pretend the room didn't exist.

Ding!

The elevator door opened. He stepped in, half hoping he'd find the blonde talking animatedly into the phone outside of the hotel doors having the same effect on Matt as he used to. The other half of him, however, hoped not to see him at all, ever again.

Ding!

He stepped out.

He handed his keys at the reception and walked out of the hotel. There was no one there this morning. The sun shone orange on Matt but he was, again, not humbled by its beauty. He was agitated by it, by the thought of Mello, by the thought of Mihael.

Matt walked empty streets dampened by the morning dew. A few days and they'd have another gig. The show would go on. But Matt hardly wanted it to go on anymore. He didn't feel passion for the band or their music. He wanted to write something different, things Joey wouldn't want. Mello's words rang in his ears.

_"I just don't understand why a person with so much potential and opportunities would waste his chances, let life pass him by, not stop what he could stop, not do what he could do. It's not even supposed to be about the greater good or anything. You could do something for yourself. But you're just wasting it all."_

It was true. He never did anything he wanted to do. He let people walk over him and tag him along into whatever they did. The thought that those were Mello's words agitated him even further. He rubbed his thumb and index fingers together as he walked wishing there had been a joint between the two. He pushed his hands into his coat pockets to avoid wanting it.

Matt walked a fair distance not sure where he was headed with a cramped head. He walked until his legs hurt and then he walked some more. He walked until he decided he'd had enough of walking. He stopped across from a tuck shop, leaned his back against a light pole and stood there watching the worker in the store prepare for the morning costumers.

He watched as the worker brought in fresh bread and milk and stocked up his shelves with all sorts of crisps, chocolates and other sweets. The worker then restocked the shelves holding packets of cigarettes. Matt barely thought about it before entering the shop. _This is better I suppose._ He thought when he walked out with a box of Marlboro lights and a lighter weighing his coat pocket down. _Weed hurts Mihael. Tobacco doesn't._

He smoked tobacco for the very first time that day. It was rougher than weed. The smoke wasn't as thick as when he smoked a joint and it smelled worse but he'd rather ruin his lungs than contribute to the black market any further.

Upon reaching the hotel, he dropped the cigarette stub and stomped it to put it out before walking in.

"1306." He said to the receptionist and took his keys.

Upstairs things hadn't changed much. Not one person had shifted or budged at all. He tip toed to his room door and pushed his key into the keyhole. A sound from across the hall made the hair on his back stand.

He turned to look despite his brain's urges.

Mello walked out of his room, clad in blue skinny jeans and a loose grey sleeveless midriff that he barely ever wore along with large black glasses that hid most of his face. His hair was wet from a recent shower but he didn't care to dry it. He wanted to be outside, away from this place, this mess that made him sick. He had barfed so many times that he had lost count. He had washed himself over and over and still felt tainted, marred, dirtied. So he had ditched his usual attire. It had become routine with him back when he was more accustomed to the line of work he'd been thrown into on the previous night. He'd ditch his usual leather for jeans and cotton whenever he felt dirty just so that he'd at least feel like he was another person for a while.

He turned to make his way to the elevator when his eyes fell on Matt. The red head stared at him looking angered though Mello couldn't be sure. Half of Matt's face was hidden in his coat collar and the other half had goggles on. He could tell he was angry, however, from the way his fists clenched.

Mello ignored him and maneuvered towards the elevator.

"Where are you going?" The redhead's voice was raspy and tired. Mello wondered what he had been up to the previous night.

"Out." His reply was brief. He didn't want anything to do with anyone from the band at the moment.

"To get someone else to fuck you?"

Mello turned his head around so swiftly it woke the pain the previous night had left in his neck. He gawked at Matt with eyes wide as plates behind his glasses.

"What did you say?" The way his own voice shook he barely recognized it. _Did he see me?…us?...Does he know?_

Matt watched as Mello face turned pale.

"I said, are you going to go look for someone else to fuck you?" He sneered at the blonde not knowing why he was making it an issue in front of him even though he had told himself over and over that he would pretend he never saw.

"I-"

"Mello, tell me, what type of life are you leading?" He stepped towards the blonde. Glass crunched under his feet. "Is it fun? Or is it easy money?"

"Matt shut-"

"I could pay you as well y'know." He grabbed Mello's hand as the blonde stepped backwards. "I might be an orphan, but I've earned a good amount from the shows we've played."

"Get off of me, Matt." Mello yanked his hand away.

"Why?" Matt grabbed both Mello's wrists. "You think I can't afford you?"

"Let go off of me." Mello stepped further back. The skin on his wrists was raw from the friction against the ropes that had bound them behind his back the night before. His back was sweating and he felt close to breaking. Not you too, please, not you. Not like this.

"Oh don't worry." Matt continued, feeling the rage inside him slither in his veins like venom. He tightened his grip on Mello's wrists despite the retaliation. "I know you like it rough."

Mello slammed his knee into Matt's stomach forcing the redhead to double over. Matt's grip loosened and grabbing the opportunity Mello yanked his hands away. When Matt straightened, Mello raised a fist to punch his face. He channeled all his rage into his fist. Not just his anger at Matt but all his rage at everything, rage he had saved since what felt like the beginning of time.

His fist stopped midway. A hand around his wrist held back his rage. A sharp pain rushed through his arm.

"What're you doing, Mello?" Jack's snake-like voice sent shivers down Mello's spine. Jack's grip on Mello's wrist was tight and cold. "Is that how you treat a client?"

Matt watched as Mello's shoulders slumped, like a machine that had failed.

"Do you want me to tell the boss about your behavior?" Jack asked.

What the hell is he on about? Matt thought.

"Forgive him." Jack turned to look at Matt hand still gripping Mello's wrist. "He needs disciplining. I don't even know why the boss puts up with him. He's a waste." He yanked at Mello's wrist so that Mello was pushed into Matt. "You can discipline him your own way if you want to."

Matt felt cold and guilty. He stepped away from the broken blonde who stood there with his head hanging low, unable to defend himself. It broke him to see the Mello whose very presence demanded attention looking defeated. He recalled how Mihael had mentioned being sold for pleasure. The realization made his eyes grow wide. _It's not they money. It wasn't his choice!_ He found his mind yell at him. _He didn't ask to be this way._

He stepped further back.

"What's the matter?" Jack asked.

"I – uh – I changed my mind." He replied. The blonde looked up at him, shades still sitting stubbornly over his eyes. "Maybe later." Matt waved his hands indifferently. "The band will be up soon and we have some travelling to do."

Mello watched in disbelief as the redhead turned around and left for his room.

Jack yanked at his wrist. "You better make sure you haven't spoiled our reputation, Mello, you hear me?" He snarled. "I'm going to have to report you if you don't."

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**Date: 17th April 2009.**

They had been on the road for a day and Matt felt so badly demotivated he could barely stand being around anyone. And yet he was stuck in a bus with people. A majority of these people he had come to lose faith in. He could barely look at Larry without wanting to push him out a window. He could barely believe how low Joey and Maddie could get. But he kept telling himself that they must've been urged into it as well, the way Larry had urged drugs on Matt. Therefore, most of his anger was aimed at Jack and Larry.

The one thing that Matt couldn't bear at all at the moment was that the blonde was always in front of him. It was like the blonde was in mourning. He had ditched his usual black leather vest, pants and gloves and replaced them with jeans and loose cotton midriffs. He wouldn't even let his hair fall around him, instead he'd tie them up in a messy ponytail. Mello barely ever looked at Matt or spoke to him and Matt was sure that either Jerry or Jamie had noticed the change in their dealer's usual form. He was jumpy as well, and angrier than usual. Once he almost punched Jamie for walking up at him from behind him.

But that wasn't the worst part of having the blonde around. The worst part was that Matt felt like he wanted the ground to swallow him alive every time his eyes accidentally met the blonde's. He couldn't believe he had been stupid enough to ambush the blonde but in his rage he knew he had and he knew the guilt he felt.

On top of all of that, he hadn't heard anything from Mihael yet. He had waited all day yesterday but there had been nothing and Matt was getting worried. In the last rant he had read, Mihael had talked about running away and Matt was afraid that he'd never hear from him again.

"Hey." Jerry's voice brought Matt back to the present. "Mind if we join you?"

He nodded.

"Matt, are you alright?" Jamie tried to keep worry from his voice.

"I'm fine." Matt responded, shutting his laptop. "Why? What's up?"

"You haven't smoked a joint with us since before the gig." Jamie glanced at Jerry.

"And don't try to lie and say you smoked at the party." Jerry added in. "I saw you go for the joints and then pull back. Did something happen? Did Joey pick on you?"

Matt glanced at Joey and Maddie in back of the bus, busy drinking and laughing away. Jack was seated not far from them along with Mello. The two were busy discussing something about the stash and the money.

"No." he took in a deep breath. He was going to have to break it to the twins. "It has nothing to do with Joey or anyone. It's my own choice." He looked up at the twins who patiently awaited an explanation. He was, for a second, grateful to have known the two. "I don't want to do it anymore. I don't want the drugs."

Jerry cocked a brow. The size of Jamie's eyes doubled as he turned to look at Jerry. Jerry nodded and rubbed his chin.

"And this is your choice?" He asked.

Matt nodded.

"Does….does that mean you…think we're horrible people or something?" Jamie's worry made Matt's heart melt.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he smiled at the brunette. "That's never going to happen." It was always easy to tell Jamie from Jerry not because they looked different. They were exactly alike, down to their last freckle. Jamie just always seemed unsure of himself and even somewhat weaker than Jerry, who always sat up straight, and had a much more punk rock attitude. And Jamie always looked at Jerry in the middle of a conversation. He needed to be sure that Jerry was on his side. Jerry on the other hand always knew that right or wrong Jamie would back him up.

"Well, that's good to know." Jerry said, putting at arm around Jamie. "And you've picked up cigarettes, I can tell." He nodded in the direction of Matt's box of Marlboro lights that lay on the table rapidly disappearing and piling up the ash tray.

"I get cravings." Matt explained. He pulled out a cigarette from the box, fastened it between his lips and lit it. He rubbed his temples. "Do you..do you guys think I'm…you know…not fun now that I've quit?"

Jerry made a face as though Matt had gone mental. "Do we really come off as such major jerks?"

"No!" Matt violently shook his head. "I just meant…maybe…you guys wouldn't like me as much if my opinions were too different or…you know what I mean."

"Matt, we'd never think less of you. It's good to make your own choices. Do what you think is right. Nothing wrong with that."

"I want to talk to the rest about some things as well…" Matt continued. "I've got things to say….to the band."

"Sure." Jerry nodded. "We're all ears. Just know that if you need anything we're here….oh! By the way…" Jerry craned his neck to look back. "Any idea what's eating our dealer?"

"Yeah, Mello seems off as well." Jamie chimed in. "He almost punched me! I was like woah! Dude! What crawled up your pants?"

 _Joey did._ Matt thought.

"He can't do anything to you while I'm around." Jerry put an arm around Jamie's neck and pressed his knuckles into his look-alike's head.

"I don't know." Matt lied. "But Mello isn't the sort to lose it without a reason."

"Oh we know that." Jamie said freeing himself from Jerry's grip.

"Yeah, we just hope we didn't somehow wrong him, y'know?"

Matt nodded.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Mello found himself feeling a tad bit relieved that night. Everyone around him was snoring. He left his seat and crawled towards his laptop bag. He needed someone to talk to and the machine had become his only savior in such moments. Upon reaching his bag he realized the redhead wasn't asleep.

Fortunately for Mello, Matt was seated quite far ahead, staring into his laptop, and hadn't noticed him. He didn't want anyone to notice him specifically not Matt. If he had a choice he would've locked himself up in a room with chocolates, a large warm bed and his laptop and never left until he felt like he'd die if he never got to see the sun again. But he didn't have a choice. His consent or needs didn't matter. He was just an object.

He crawled back into his seat and peeled his laptop open. He flexed his fingers, feeling the tears welling up in his eyes. Unsure what to type, he let his fingers fly.

>   
> **M's Computer. Date: 17th April 2009.**
> 
> Every now and then when I think about it, I can't understand how I lived through what I've lived through. The way my chest hurts, the savage ways in which I'm tempted to massacre the people around me, I feel I'd go mad from all this.
> 
> I don't know what blind hope keeps me going. What miracle am I waiting for? Sometimes I find myself standing in front of a mirror, looking at myself. I see my reflection smirk at me. He laughs at me and says, "What're you waiting for?"
> 
> I fear for my life then because I don't understand why I haven't killed myself yet. Oh God I hate how cliché and pathetic I sound when I say things like this and God knows I hate sounding like some helpless little fuck that can't stand up on his own but fuck knows I've tried so fucking hard to get away for years and years.
> 
> This is why I find my brain reaching the immediate conclusion that the only way out is death. So the question remains; would I die aiding the underworld that I hate so much or would I kill myself and hence cause them whatever little loss my death can cause?

Matt felt his chest grow cold and the hair all over his body stood up. He felt as though he was about to lose someone very dear to him. He didn't know how to stop Mihael from thinking the way he did. He had searched again and again for Mihael but to no result.

 _He won't do it._ He told himself. _He's stronger than that. He won't give up._

But he knew the nagging fear he felt on reading what he had read. _If I know this and let him die, what type of a person does that make me?_

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

That evening upon reaching the hotel Matt was determined to talk to the band about what he'd been feeling lately. _They need to know._ He thought. _This affects not only me but us._

So he waited patiently as Mello spoke to the receptionist about the floor he had booked and handed everyone their keys. Matt watched as the blonde retained all bits and pieces of his attitude when handing out the keys. He threw Larry's keys at him making Jack's nostrils flare at his insolence. And even though Mello had noticed Jack's reaction, he still threw Joey's keys at him. He was kinder to the twins, handing Jerry their keys when Jerry stretched out his hand. Matt thought he'd have his keys thrown in his face at full speed but the blonde walked up to him, never looking right at him, held out his keys and whispered, "here you go."

Matt wanted to apologize then and there. He wanted to tell Mello how sorry he was and how bad it was making him feel and how he had wanted Mello's approval since they'd met. But his guilt numbed him to all common sense and he simply took the keys.

"Where're my keys?" Jack asked when Mello made his way to the elevator asking the band to follow him.

"The reception, of course." Mello spoke with the same fire Matt remembered since before the night of the party.

"And why is it there?"

"You're not my bloody client and I'm not your bloody servant. Get your own damn keys."

Jerry and Jamie laughed and Matt couldn't help but smile at how strong Mello was despite the wrongs he was being put through.

Once they were all settled, after Mello and Jack had left for their own rooms, Matt asked Joey to call a band meeting.

"What for?" He asked.

"Just do it, will you?" Matt replied seating himself in a chair in Joey and Maddie's room. "Everyone except Larry."

And so it happened. They all gathered in Joey's room. Jerry and Jamie sat on the bed, Joey leaned against the wall and Maddie at the dresser all of them waiting for Matt to say something.

"Well?" Joey raised a brow, his patience wearing thin.

"Umm…yeah." Matt began. "I don't know if you, Maddie and Joey that is, have noticed, but I've given up on any and all drugs entirely."

"Tell me you didn't call us for that." Maddie rolled her eyes. "I've got better things to do y'know."

"Give him a chance, Maddie." Jerry retaliated.

"It's just that I've been thinking for a while and I feel that I as a person don't want to be tripping and high all the time. I feel I'm missing out on my own life." He looked from Jerry to Joey hoping they understood. "Now I'm not going to be all self-righteous and say you're wrong to be doing drugs. But I'm just saying, do it if that's really, and I mean really, what you want to do. Just take care of yourself. I'm alright with you lot either way, as people. But as a band, as a band, we're heading the wrong way. There were things going on at our party that are dangerous. We, rockers, metalheads, punks, we go around saying that people in the world have misconceptions about us. We say people are wrong when they say we're stupid animals with no self-control and yes most of us know where to draw the line but you lot and I know that there were things at that party that were far beyond our lines. Much of it was mindless self-indulgence."

"What're you talking about, Matt?" Jerry asked. "No, I'm serious, maybe we were all too high to notice. Tell us."

"For starters, we're not supposed to be too high to notice. Isn't that what "in moderation" means?" Matt looked at the twins, knowing they'd understand. He then turned towards Joey. "And the thing that happened with Mello," he looked from Joey to Maddie and back. "that was just plain wrong and not understandable under any circumstances."

"What happened to Mello?" Jamie sat up.

"Yeah, Matt, what happened to Mello?" Joey raised an eyebrow, lips twisting as if to say "I dare you to say it".

"You know what, Joey."

"I don't." Joey folded his arms and left the wall. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah, how the hell is Joey supposed to know what happened to whatshisname?" Maddie walked up to Joey and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Matt felt rage fill him up. He recalled the broken looking blonde from when he had ambushed him and he could barely take it.

"His name is Mello. And you lot is what happened to him." Matt stood up and almost yelled at the couple.

"Is anyone going to tell us what happened?" Jerry stood up as well, as if to ready himself if a fight erupted between Matt and Joey.

"I will." The voice startled Matt, Jerry and Jamie. They all turned towards the door realizing that's where the voice came from. Larry walked in and shut the door behind him. "We hired Mello-"

"Yeah, we know." Jerry rolled his eyes. "He's our dealer."

"-as a whore."

Jerry simply gawked at him, eyes wide as plates.

"Yes, we did." Larry walked towards the rest. "And there's nothing to be ashamed of." He said to Maddie and Joey.

"No there wouldn't have been anything to be ashamed of if Mello had actually wanted to be your whore." Matt clenched his fists. "But you know that he didn't want it. You know that Jack forced him into it."

He felt Jamie and Jerry's heads spin towards him.

"Matt, Matt, Matt," Larry walked up to him and grabbed his shoulders. "What do those details matter?"

"They matter Larry!" he pulled away.

"Matt, what Mello wants and doesn't isn't our problem." Larry rubbed his temples. "He's available to be hired for us to sleep with and if we wanted it that was entirely our decision. And we paid him Matt. We paid him good money."

Matt calmed himself. He realized that it was pointless to be arguing based purely on the emotional side of the argument. So he tried to speak a language he thought the rest would understand. "What I'm trying to say is, whatever happened at our after party, is that what we stand for as a band? Is that the message we want to give off to the world? Is that what we'll achieve?"

"No, Matt." Joey was the one that answered this time. "That's not what we want our crowd to believe we are. That's why we've got fucks like you, to make us look more like a charity program. So go on and speak out to the public and do whatever public services you want and make us look good. So we can earn more and fuck more Mellos."

Matt gaped at him. _I'm not hearing this. I'm not._

"C'mon Matt!" Joey stretched out his arms. "It's just a marketing strategy! What do you care? You get to travel the world, earn a shit ton of cash, get laid and get famous. And you're complaining?"

"I am." Matt stared him right in the eyes, feeling his rage boiling over. "I am complaining."

"Don't forget that you still owe me." Larry sneered at Matt. "I took you out of that shit hole you came from. And you still have to pay me back so don't you for a second think that you can simply walk out whenever you feel like it. You signed a contract, Matt and I'll make sure I get my damn money's worth."

Matt heard Mello in his head then. He remembered how Mello talked about using his brains and he decided he needed to play a strategy. He needed to think of it as a game. He needed to say the right thing to earn their trust and use them like they used him.

He sighed and sat back down on the chair behind him.

"Yeah. It's true." Matt said. He took off his goggles and looked up at Larry worry and humility rich in his eyes. "I know and realize all you've done for me Larry. I do not wish to disappoint you. I'm the youngest here, so I might make mistakes. I don't understand the scene all that well."

"Matty, don't worry." Larry took Matt's shoulders and pulled him up. "I'm here to tell you. I'm here to help you out."

"I just get confused sometimes." Matt continued. He rubbed his temples and creases his brows. "So many alter egos to create. I just lose track of what we really are."

"It's all a game, Matt." Larry smiled at Matt. "What we really are is simple. What we're really doing is also simple. We're just having fun. We're just playing games."

Matt hugged Larry and glanced at the twins. He could tell they were quiet for their own good and Matt was glad. They didn't need to involve themselves in this mess. Matt realized that Mihael was wrong. He wasn't alone in the world. They all were.

 _Yeah, it's all a game._ He thought. _And I never loose._

**Moral: To thine own self be true.**


	7. Read My Mind

## READ MY MIND

**Date: 20th April 2009.**

Mello bit his lower lip, deep in thought about all that had been happening. All his feelings were jumbled and confused. He barely understood what he felt anymore. And that was usually the time when he made drastic decisions. He hated it when he did that, when he forgot logic and made all blind decisions. Therefore, in order to avoid such decisions, Mello was taking out his agitation on his lower lip, which was now swollen and red. He thought about his conversation with Jack from the same morning.

"Have you done anything about it?" Jack had whispered to Mello, leaning in.

"Back off Jack!" Mello had pushed at him. "Done what about what?"

"About the fucking redhead."

"What about him?" Mello's face had turned red but he had successfully managed to mask it as anger instead of embarrassment by glaring at Jack and stomping his foot on the cold marble of the hotel lobby floor. He had been feeling odd at the slightest mention of Matt.

"He hasn't asked for a single fucking joint since he found out about you." Jack had sneered. "Fix it or consider yourself dead."

Mello had noticed as well. Matt hadn't asked for a single joint in ages and it made Mello all the more bewildered about the redhead. _What in the fucking world is up with him?_ He thought to himself seated in a leather chair in Larry's room.

The band had just gotten back from jamming and an interview, with representatives from an e-magazine, and they were now going over last minute plans for their next gig in Larry's room. Larry felt the availability of anything and everything the "talents" required would do them good in their thinking process and hence Jack and Mello were on stand-by with the band.

Mello thought most of the "stand-by" involved sitting around, a job which naturally agitated him for several reasons.

For starters he'd be anywhere in the world than be around Larry, Joey and Madison at the moment. But in all his years he'd learnt well to deal with assholes, quite literally. And the three were just that. Mello really had little choice, though. So he gritted his teeth and tried to be as strong as he could be.

The second reason why the stand-by agitated him was that he simply liked being constructive and having practical things to do. It would certainly help keep his mind off of all the things that had been confusing him lately.

Most of the confusion began and ended with Matt. He couldn't place what he felt for the nineteen year old. On one hand he felt he was attracted to him. _Only a tad bit…not too much._ On the other hand he was furious at Matt for the things he had said and done the morning after the party. But then Mello was grateful that Matt hadn't forced it on him. And then Mello was embarrassed that Matt had seen him with Larry, Joey and Maddie. Mello thought his head would explode from all the things the same person was making him feel. _I never even knew the same person could make me taste the entire fucking spectrum of emotions._ He rolled his eyes. _I hate him. I simply fucking despise him._

Lastly, Mello was also offended that Matt never even asked for his share of weed.

_Am I that disgusting?_ He thought. _So disgusting that even a druggie wouldn't want to be around me? It's not like I've got a disease or something. I'm not asking him to fuck me…but he doesn't even ask me for his daily stash. I just keep handing it to Jamie._ He glared daggers at Matt's back. The twat hasn't even apologized yet.

Matt was seated away from the rest of the band, at a table in the balcony staring with his laptop, in front of him like always. His back was facing towards the rest of them room. Half of him was hidden behind the balcony doors that reflected Mello. The rest of the band was in the room. Joey was revising the songs while Madison sat next to him and whined. The twins were being entirely useless and Larry was pacing while talking into the phone. Jack was seated next to Mello making lines of coke on the table.

Mello sighed wondering if he was about to do the right thing.

Grabbing a batch of rolling paper and crushing some marijuana, Mello began rolling a joint. Jack watched with narrowed eyes as the blonde who never smoked rolled a couple of joints and stuffed them in a little plastic packet.

"What're you doing?" Jack asked as Mello got up to leave.

"Fixing things."

Mello walked up to Matt fists clenched in determination. He sat across the redhead, facing towards the room. The cool wind of the night blew against his back.

The younger boy stared at Mello for a while wondering what to expect. He swallowed. _I haven't apologized yet._ He thought. _I'm a fucking coward. Someone please shoot me…before he does._

"Do you mind?" Mello asked.

"Huh?" Matt straightened. "No…not at all."

"This." Mello pushed the packet towards Matt. "This is for you."

Matt looked at it a bit startled to find hand rolled joints sitting in wait on his table.

"I…uh.." He visibly pulled away from the bag. _What is he afraid of?_ Mello thought. _Cooties?_ "No, thanks."

Mello dragged the bag back towards himself. He looked down at his hands and wondered just how inferior he was to rest of the world to have been treated like that. "Look," he began, staring intensely at his hands. "I'm sorry you saw whatever you saw at the party but -"

Matt's hand flew towards Mello's without his consent. If he hadn't had his laptop and a table between them, he knew would've went straight for the blonde's face and kissed all of the doubts away. Mello looked from where their hands met to Matt's face. His surprise was no secret, but his quickened pulse was….or so he hoped.

"No, Mello." Matt implored. "I'm the one who's sorry. I should never have attacked you like that." Mello had never expected the redhead to touch him let alone ogle at him so pleadingly. His heart thundered in his ears threatening to explode. "It's my fault." Matt's hand drew back and Mello was half tempted to snatch it so he could relieve himself of the cold lonely feeling it had left in Mello's hand. "I should've apologized earlier. I've just had a lot on my mind."

And he wasn't lying. Ever since Mihael's previous rant, Matt hadn't read a single rant. It had been two days and with each passing second, Matt got more and more anxious. He could barely care about The Bombs next gig but he needed to put up a front for a while. _Just for a while._ He had thought. _Once I've got more than one on my side I'll be ready._

He hadn't spoken to anyone about how he felt, ever since, or about Mello, not even the twins. He knew the only person he could ever want on his side was Mihael. And what with Mihael's last rant, getting in contact with Mihael was getting more and more urgent and Matt had finally decided that drastic moves that he had been avoiding needed to be made.

"I agree." Mello replied dropping his gaze from Matt's face, trying his best to keep his own as stern as he could. "You should have apologized. But if you are sorry, then what's stopping you from accepting a few joints from me?" His eyes found the orange of Matt's goggles. "You haven't asked me for any of your stash at all. I've been passing it all to Jamie."

Matt let his back fall against his chair and chuckled. "Then Jamie's probably been smoking it." He smiled as the blonde raised a quizzical eyebrow. "I haven't had a joint since the night of the first gig." He pulled out a packet of Marlboro Lights from his jeans pocket. "This is my drug now."

Mello's eyes fell upon the white box that Matt had placed on the table. "Nicotine." He said trying to look unmoved. "What an improvement."

"It is." Matt leaned in and placed his elbows on the table. "It doesn't contribute to the black market. And that's all I was trying to achieve."

"It's a lot more addictive than weed." Mello smiled up at him, warmed by the idea that he was after all attracted to someone who was trying to make a difference, little by little. _He's not the best person on the planet._ He thought. _But he's not Gareth either._ He felt a tad bit proud of Matt. He wouldn't want to tell, but he definitely was.

"But it curbs my oral fixation." He smiled back.

Mello dropped his eyes back down to the packet. _No he doesn't look good when he smiles._ He scolded himself. "I'm sure it does."

"Mello?" Matt continued. "I hope I didn't cause trouble with Jack. I'm sorry for that as well. I don't know why-"

"You can fix it." Mello interrupted. He glanced at Jack who was watching him with narrowed eyes. "Would you take it anyway?" He pushed the packet of joints back at Matt, glancing at Jack.

Mello watched Matt hesitate for a second and then glance at his laptop. _Smart boy._ Mello thought, smirk spreading across his face as he realized that Matt wasn't dumb enough to actually turn around and follow Mello's eyes. Instead Matt had followed his gaze using the reflection in his laptop screen. "Sure." Matt nodded taking the packet from the blonde. "I'll give it to the twins to share."

Mello smiled warmly at him aware of how the recent change in the redhead was making him so much more appealing to Mello.

"So, you're being watched." Matt stated the obvious.

Mello nodded.

"Tut tut tut! What have you done now, Mello?" Matt imitated an angry mother with fists on his hips and a mockingly angry expression on his face trying to dissolve prior tensions.

"It wasn't me, dumbass! It was you!" Mello laughed. "He's watching to see if I'll manage to make things better with you." Mello rolled his eyes. "Make sure you fix our reputation Mello." He mimicked. "Fucking nagging cunt."

"In that case," Matt said, amused by the blonde's colorful vocabulary. Lighting a cigarette, Matt left his seat. Mello looked up at him, brow cocking and smirk spreading wider. "Perhaps, you'd like to achieve more impact than what passing me a few joints will achieve." Matt moved behind his seat and stood so that he was entirely hidden by the balcony door.

"And how, pray tell, am I going to accomplish that?" Mello crooned, resting his face in the palm of his hand.

"All you have to do," Mello watched as Matt took a deep suck at the cigarette and exhaled. "Is leave."

Mello's eyebrow shot up. "You want me to leave?"

"No." Matt smiled slyly at the blonde. "You want you to leave. I want you to pass me by."

As bewildered as he was, Mello decided to comply. He stood up, murmured a little "okay" and took a few steps towards the room.

Matt grabbed the blonde's hand just as he passed Matt by. He pulled the blonde towards him so that Mello twirled into his chest and pushed him backwards into the railing.

"Can he see us now?" Matt asked a tomato faced Mello who looked up at him with eyes wide as plates.

"I don't think so." Mello was could barely hear his own reply. He wondered if Matt could. All he was aware of was Matt's hand on the small of his back strongly holding him against the redhead's broad chest. Mello felt hot all over. Even the night wind didn't help. He almost wanted Matt to move his hand down a few inches but he knew the redhead was just helping. _He just wants Jack to think that things are okay with us._ He told himself. _It's nothing._

"How long do you think it'll take for him to buy it?" Matt inquired. He wasn't in any hurry to let go off Mello's back. He felt they were a perfect fit, like two pieces of a puzzle, like gears in clockwork. The problem, however, was the surprising tightness in his pants that he was eager not to let Mello notice.

"I'm not sure." Mello whispered feeling his breath grow heavy and his chest pressing into Matt. He felt things he hadn't felt in ages, things he had yearned to feel again. He felt like owning Matt, like biting his neck, wrapping a leg around him and having him. But along with want came fear, fear of what had been. He had been down this road before and it was painful. So painful. He could barely forget the cold nights after his first few "assignments" when he lay in bed utterly disgusted with himself wishing Gareth would come to him, hold him and tell him that it'd be over. He had, in fact, gone to the boy and pleaded with him.

"Gary, don't make me do this again. Talk to your dad, c'mon! I can't do this anymore!" He had cried into Gareth's shoulder wondering why his boyfriend wouldn't hold him. "I feel disgusting! I can't take it! I'll die if I have to do this anymore."

He had pushed him off as though his had brushed dirt off of his shirt.

"You haven't even gotten started yet." Gareth's voice had been cold. Mello's tears had wet his own chest but they hadn't managed to dampen Gareth at all.

"Why're you doing this to me?" Mello had pleaded, his voice hoarse and rough.

"Why not?"

Mello felt cold. He pulled away from the redhead traumatized by his own visions of the past. _How do I know Matt wouldn't do the same?_ He thought.

Matt smiled at him warmly. "I think that should've done the job, don't you think?"

Mello nodded, smiled and left. _I don't need anyone. I can survive on my own._ He repeated to himself. _I don't need anyone. I can survive on my own._ But he knew that was a lie. No one survives alone.

Matt took another drag of the cigarette and looked back at his laptop. There was still no sign of Mihael. As happy as he was about fixing things with Mello, he felt furious with himself. Here he was being carefree and loving with Mello when Mihael was suffering. _Or dead…_ He shook his head. _No. He isn't dead._

He had decided to directly contact Mihael but for that he needed Mihael to at least leave his computer on and connected which hadn't happened ever since the last rant. _Or it might have happened,_ He thought. _And I just missed out on it._

He had spent every free moment since then on his laptop waiting but the problem with "putting up a front" was that he wasn't always at the laptop. Still, even during their jamming, he had taken the laptop with him and refused to meet the interviewers telling Larry that he felt unprepared for the gig and needed more time to practice. Naturally fearing for their performance, and his money, Larry had agreed to let him stay behind at the studio while the rest went for the interview. He hadn't practiced for a single second after they had left.

But it had all been in vain. Mihael hadn't turned his computer on for a single second. Analyzing and looking at it the way Mihael's psyche would, Matt thought Mihael would leave his final note on his laptop considering the fact that he had sentimental attachments with it.

_Even that would be a chance to stop him._ He thought. _C'mon Mihael. Don't make me worry._

 

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**Date: 21st April 2009.**

Mello rested his back against the concrete wall and took a bite of his chocolate. Dressed in his leather Mello looked around at the small but seemingly dedicated and doubtlessly noisy crowd that circled the stage the band was performing on. Mello wasn't really in the mood for being around too many loud groping teenagers but then Matt had specifically asked Mello to follow them to the gig and he had found it hard not to show up, despite refusing.

He had run into Matt in the hallway that morning when the band was about to leave for the venue. Mello had told Jack that he was going to use the time to get next week's stash. He hadn't been expecting to run into the redhead as he exited Jack's room.

"Ah! I was looking for you!" Matt exclaimed walking up to him. "Larry said I'd find you up here."

"Yeah." Mello replied ignoring the little voice in his head that kept repeating He was looking for me…for me…me. "I was just about to leave to get next week's stash." He rolled his eyes hoping the low lit corridor masked the way color was rushing to his cheeks.

"Oh.." Mello watched as Matt's shoulders slumped visibly. Matt shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked at invisible things on the floor. "So you're busy, eh?"

"Sort of." Mello replied. "I thought you lot had already left."

"Well…they're all waiting for me….and Jack."

"Then why're you here?" A part of Mello knew the answer. Another part thought he was kidding himself.

"I was wondering if you'd come…." Matt blurted out looking up at the blonde. Mello seemed to be hanging on to every word he spoke and the more he saw Mello looking wide-eyed the more he was tempted to plant a little kiss on Mello's bronzed cheeks. "..to the gig, y'know….It'd be nice to have you there."

"I-I've got - uh - some things that need taking care of." Mello felt furious at himself for stuttering. _What're you?_ He scolded himself. _A thirteen year old?_ It wasn't supposed to feel so difficult to hold simple conversations with Matt. It wasn't like this was Mello's first crush. _Did I always have such little control over myself?_ He frowned.

"Yeah." Matt acknowledged. "I understand. It's no big deal." He grinned at Mello. "Well…I'll be off yeah?"

"Best of luck."

And that had been it.

Mello had told himself that he had already told Matt that he wasn't going and it was no longer important for him to go but he had hurried his errands and reached the venue as fast as he could manage.

The band was about to play another song after a short break. There was something very eager and excited about the crowd. Mello, however, tried not to get carried away. Jerry, walked up on stage and took his place behind the drums. The crowd cheered. The lights went out. Mello could make out the rest of the band taking their places, instruments clad in their hands. The lights glared painfully suddenly, temporarily blinding Mello. The music started with light taps of the cymbal, increasing in impact and then a bang.

"One! Two! Three! Four!" Jerry yelled clacking his sticks together. The sounds from the guitars and the bases backed up the drums and Madison began singing.

Mello's eyes fell on Matt. He smirked, trying to hold back his laughter. He had never known Matt had such a stage attire. The redhead was the only one on stage with a mask on. He was wearing a black hoodie over his usual striped shirt, hiding his hair with the hood. A half-mask respirator gripped tightly at half of his face and his goggles covered most of the top half of his face as usual. He had a streak of someone that might enjoy sadomasochism, but Mello highly doubted that was the case. _He might like biting and tugging hard, maybe._ He thought. _But not S and M…nothing too rough…just passionate._ Mello could easily judge such things about people, what with having worked in a line that required him to be able to tell such things. He steered his thoughts from the direction. _What he likes has nothing to do with me._

Matt strummed at the guitar trying his level best not to think of Mihael or Mello but the thoughts kept distracting him. He missed a note here and there but fortunately nothing got ruined.

He had almost wanted to take his laptop on stage with him but he knew that was a ridiculous idea. _What if he's at his computer right now?_ He thought.

His eyes moved over the crowd as he silently begged them not to ask for an encore. He spotted a lone blonde headed figure leaning against the wall. He squinted at it. _Is that really…..?_

It was Mello and the realization made a part of him feel excited. Mello being there made him want to play better. So he concentrated on the song trying to think about Mello instead of Mihael.

 

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The band had decided they wanted their after party to be smaller this time and Mello was truly deeply grateful for that. Another thing he was thankful for was that the band had decided the after party would take place in the VIP lounge of a club in their hotel. Mello sat on a huge leather couch in front of a glass table. The room was a small square with three solid walls and a glass wall with a glass door looking down at the rest of the club. The room held little besides three couches against the solid walls, a small rectangular glass table and a leather chair. Jamie and Larry sat on the couch opposite to the glass wall. Mello and Jerry on the couch against the right wall and Joey and Maddie on the only remaining couch.

Matt made his way upstairs to the VIP lounge, holding up two pints of beer. The location of the after party had a lot to with Matt and the twins. All three of them had begged Larry to not hold the party upstairs.

"We should try something new!" Jamie had whined.

"Yeah!" Matt had beseeched. "I've never been to a VIP lounge."

"Me neither!" Jerry had chimed in.

He was glad the twins had decided to help him out with the plan. He hadn't even explained it to them. They had just overheard him asking Larry to hold the party at the club and pleaded with him. He had decided the day before that he'd do so just to make sure no one would make unnecessary moves on Mello while he faked feeling ill and leaving to check if there was any news of Mihael.

Unfortunately or fortunately, he wasn't sure which, Mello had turned up at the gig and Matt felt it'd be rude if he didn't spend time with Mello at the after party. _I can still leave early._ He thought pushing open the glass doors. _I need to check on Mihael._

"Here!" He said handing the blonde the perspiring glass and taking his own to sit next to Jamie.

"So…" Matt looked at the blonde expectantly. "…how was it?"

"Would you like me to tell you the truth or lie to you?" Mello smirked at the blonde sipping at the bitter liquid.

Jerry laughed and Matt glanced at Maddie and Joey, making sure they weren't paying any attention to them.

"Okay fine." Matt put his hands up as if to surrender. "It's not the best music on earth."

"That's not the only thing I was about to mention."

"Oh! He's got more!" Jerry cackled and Jamie leaned in to join in the conversation.

"I think Madison and you, Matt, are the reason why your tickets sell." Mello pointed out. "Madison knows how to spread her legs and Matt and his ridiculous mask creates intrigue."

"AW!" Jamie pouted in disbelief. "No one likes us?"

Mello shook his head. "I'm sure you're all good at what you do." He stated as a matter of fact-ly. "But I feel you don't have much room to really be whatever you want."

"Ah! Mello's great lecture about being yourself!" Matt exclaimed rolling his eyes and the twins laughed with him.

"It's important!" Mello frowned at the chuckling redhead. "Well if what I say doesn't matter then why would you ask for my opinion?"

"No, your opinions matter." Matt beamed. "That's why I asked."

The blonde's frown deepened, wrinkling his nose. His icy cold eyes glared at Matt in utter hatred. And then the blonde raised his glass to his lips and, much to Matt and twins' surprise, Mello chugged the drink down in seconds.

"Refill, asshole!" He yelled, slamming his glass painfully into Matt's knee.

The twins roared with laughter while a grinning Matt took the glass and left to get Mello a refill.

Matt found Larry and Jack at the foot of the stairs having a conversation. The music was blaring and Larry leaned close to Jack and Matt spotted a few money bills being passed between them and he immediately knew what their topic of discussion was.

"HEY JACK!" Matt called out and grabbed Jack's hand before he had the chance to take the bills. The tall crooked nosed man looked down at Matt with an annoyed frown etched on his brows. "You're just the man I was looking for." Matt laughed and put an arm around Jack's shoulders. "Say, how much exactly would the blonde cost for the night?"

Larry gaped at Matt an eye twitching in suspicion but Matt couldn't care. He wouldn't let Larry use Mello ever again.

"I was about to strike a deal with Jack, Matt." Larry pointed out through gritted teeth.

"Really?" Matt slumped. "But I'm in the mood tonight. What if I pay double what he's paying?" He questioned Jack knowing the man wouldn't refuse and Larry wouldn't pay extra for a whore that he could get for cheap.

"I suppose it'd work." Jack grinned greedily baring a few silver teeth.

 

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_Is he refilling my glass or making a new one?_ Mello thought. Jack and Larry got here ages ago saying he was on his way.

And just as the blonde thought it Matt barged through the door holding a perspiring glass in his hand.

"Sorry it took so long." He said handing it to Mello. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting."

"You did." Mello barked. "I was about to leave with Jerry." Mello slid a hand around Jerry arm at which Jerry passed him a flirtatious smile.

"Yeah, I was about to take Mello upstairs." He slid an arm around Mello and Matt had to stop himself from slapping both of them. Jamie simply chuckled at Matt's lost expression.

Matt regained composure. "Well since I'm back," he said taking the blonde's hand and pulling him up to his feet. "What do you say to taking this party upstairs?"

Mello felt his insides do a somersault. _What did he say?_ He felt at loss of words. He could barely believe what he was hearing. He knew for fact that Matt had, before this, never shown any sure fire signs of wanting to sleep with him, besides the angered assault and, surely, that didn't count. He'd even rejected Mello upon finding out that Matt hadn't slept with Larry, Joey and Maddie by choice. He'd even gone far enough to help Mello undo his mistake from Jack's records.

Then what was this sudden change of mind? _I knew it._ He thought. _He's no different from the rest._ Mello's brow furrowed and his jaw clenched but what really angered him wasn't the redhead's question but the pain in his chest that kept yearning for Matt to not be what Mello feared. Mello wanted, needed, Matt to be different just so that he could tell himself that all wasn't lost in the world. Matt didn't have to love Mello, of course Mello would like it if he did, but still, it wasn't a requirement, just so long as Mello knew that Matt wasn't like the rest of them. He could take whatever he felt for the boy to the grave with him without regrets so long as he knew Matt was different.

"I've made the arrangements with Jack already." Matt beamed at Mello and turned to glance at Jack for his acknowledgement. "Right Jack?"

Mello looked wide-eyed at Jack. _Tell me it's not true._ He thought. _Tell me he's pulling my leg._

But Jack nodded and Mello tried to compose himself. _It's pointless to fight anyway._ He thought. _Just give up, Mihael._

He put his arms around the redhead's shoulders and tired his best to fake a flirtatious smile resisting the urge to strangle the redhead. _I'll kill him. I'll fucking kill him._

"Shall we then?"

Matt smiled back and took Mello's hand.

They walked down the stairs. Matt dragged him through the crowd of people dancing, out the doors, into the lobby and into the elevator. As the elevator doors were closing a hand slammed violently between them, urging them away. Jack stood staring at Matt and Mello.

"Thought I might call it a night as well." He said walking in.

Matt knew instantly that Jack was following Mello and he smiled at him. "Sure dude!"

He smiled flirtatiously at Mello, walking backwards into the mirror at the end of the cubicle, dragging Mello along. Mello smiled back. It was a lie and Matt could see it in Mello's eyes. A part of him wished Mello wanted it but he didn't. It was just a job to Mello and Matt couldn't take that. Matt almost didn't want to be around Mello anymore. Every time he so much as looked at Mello he was reminded of Mihael and his dream. _Why am I confusing the two?_

He pressed their foreheads together giggling a little bit and for a second through closed eyes he fooled himself into believing he was with Mihael.

_Ding!_

They had reached their floor. He pulled Mello out and dragged him to his room, aware that Jack had followed them out and although was walking in a different direction was still watching Mello.

He opened the door to his room.

He pulled away from Mello and placed the glass of beer on top of the shoe rack. When Matt turned to look back at the man in his room, Mello was taking off his leather vest.

"No! No!" Matt cried placing his hands on Mello's before the unzipped vest came off. "There's no need for that."

"So just…uh….the pants?" Mello raised a quizzical eyebrow at him. Matt thought Mello made a horrible prostitute. _How many people have had to look past his betrayed expressions for that cute butt?_ He brushed the thought.

"No Mello there's no need for anything to come off."

Mello just looked away in what Matt guessed was annoyance. "If you wanted me to give you head you didn't have to bring me to your room. The passage would've been just fine."

"Mello." Matt took Mello's face in his hands. "I don't want anything from you."

It was a lie. He wanted Mello or was it Mihael? He couldn't tell the difference anymore.

"Nothing?" Mello asked unsure whether he believed a word Matt said. He wanted to believe it. _It's messed up._ He thought zipping his vest up. _I want him to want me but I don't want him to want me? And either way I don't want to want him? This is going to fry whatever little sanity I've got left._

"I just saved your ass." Matt grinned at Mello as wide as he could letting go off the blonde's face before he lost control over his body. "I out bid Larry and viola! I'm getting laid tonight….well that's what I'd like them to think."

Mello laughed placing a hand on his face, his back dragged lower against a wall as he sat on the floor. Matt smiled. Mello had a peculiar laugh, little inaudible gasps of breath and slightly childish.

_What the hell was I thinking?_ Mello thought. _Of course he isn't like the rest._ He felt guilty for having judged Matt so harshly. _For God's sake! I thought of killing him. Am I sane at all?_

"You're going to have to stay here for the night." Matt said pulling his boots off. "I'll pay you in the morning."

"You don't have to."

"What will Jack say when you don't have the money?"

"I'll try to make some….you've done enough."

"Either you take the money from me or I'll give it to Jack" He smiled at Mello. "You have no say in this. We're friends and I'm doing this for you."

Mello stared hard at the redhead. Friends? Is that what they were? Had Mello, twenty years into his life, made his first friend? He looked away.

"Do whatever the fuck you want." He sneered.

"You can sleep next to me. I swear I won't touch…unless you want me to." He smiled flirtatiously at the blonde.

Matt started peeling his clothes off. Mello glanced at him, memorizing the way his muscles rose from his ankles, thickening and rising to the back of his knees, disappearing into his boxers. Mello's eyes rose, without his consent as he traced Matt's contour, the v-line of Matt's pelvis rose from the rim of his boxers, making a sharp turn to his sides. A statuesque chest heaved as Matt breathed, toned arms held together by round shoulders bent slightly forwards, bent at the elbows as Matt raised his hands to his goggles, pulling them off his face.

Mello found himself mesmerized by Matt's eyes as they fell on him. He got up to get a closer look without realizing what he was doing. He stood face to face with Matt, who raised a quizzical nervous eyebrow at him. His eyes were blue, an enchanting dark blue much like Mello's. Mello wondered why he hid them behind those orange put offs but he himself wanted to hide them now that he had seen them. He wanted to keep them for himself, claim lordship over them.

"What?" Matt broke the awkward silence between them.

Mello looked away immediately. "You've got nice eyes."

"Really? I didn't know."

_How can he not know? The bloody dumbass._

"Thanks." Matt grinned sheepishly at him, one hand scratching the back of his head.

"Whatever…..Do you have PJs I can borrow?"

Once changed into Matt's Pajamas, Mello lay down next to Matt in the darkened room. He could hear muffled sounds of music from Matt's earphones as the guy lay still as a corpse next to him.

"Matt?"

There was no answer.

"Maaaatt!"

No answer, again.

Mello yanked out his ear phones making Matt's eyes bolt open.

"What?"

"I was trying to talk to you."

Matt turned to be on his side so he could have a better view of the moonlit blonde.

"What is it?"

"I….um…" Mello cleared his throat several times. His original intention was to thank Matt for his kindness but he was starting to have second thoughts about it. "I was wondering…what was it like growing up in an orphanage."

Mello didn't exactly regret asking what he had, even though he himself was very aware of what it felt like. He still genuinely wanted to know what Matt's life had been like, beyond the usual told others.

"It was okay." Mello watched as Matt's eyes dropped to his hands as he fidgeted with the sheets. Even in the dark it was hard to miss that blue gleam in them. "I did okay."

"Okay?...That's it?" Mello cocked a brow.

Matt ran a hand through his hair, eyes stealing a glance at the blonde. There was a certain sincere interest in Mello's eyes that Matt couldn't help but miss.

"I was….distant….I don't remember what I did all my life." He looked at Mello again. Icy eyes stared intensely at him. He decided to admit his flaws. "You're right. I've done nothing with myself all my life. I was afraid of people ever since I was very young. And I did nothing about it. I just locked myself away, played lots lots of games, read a lot, kept busy on my own."

Mello kept his eyes on Matt, hoping he would continue but he didn't. Realizing Matt was expecting some kind of a response, Mello rattled his brains for words.

"I….think I sort of understand. I mean the part about being afraid of people. My own response to the fear, growing up, starkly contrasts yours but I know the feeling."

"How did you cope with it?"

"I sort of got better than people."

Matt laughed. "What does that even mean?"

"I feared people because I felt lesser than them. I'm not afraid of getting hurt all that much. I'm more afraid of being treated like a lesser being so I used whatever brains I had to be better than most people at just about anything so they would be intimidated by me, instead of me being scared of them. But then I suppose I just ended up with the wrong crowd...you've seen the way I'm treated now."

"Yeah…." Matt noticed the melancholy on Mello's face "I should try doing that….being better than people, that is."

"You can't be better than me."

"Why not?"

"Bitch please I'm way cooler than you."

Matt gave a low laugh. "I don't think I can be better than you either, Mello. You're amazing. How do you even manage to be so ….so…..Mello…I don't even know how to describe it." He looked up at Mello. He was surprised to see humility on his face…perhaps even a hint of shyness. Matt was beginning to find it increasingly difficult not to touch the blonde's skin, dully glowing in the moonlight. "You're a challenge. You see things so differently. Just talking to you sparks something in me, like I need to be doing something about the way I see things. It's like you dare me to fascinate you."

"And you can't." There was a smirk on the blonde's face now, eyes partially lidded in a casual challenge waiting for Matt to get worked up about it.

"Don't try that on me." Matt smiled realizing what Mello was playing at.

A comfortable silence fell in the dark room, lit only by the moonlight falling in from the window behind Mello. The two men smiled at each other comfortable in each other's presence.

"Thank you, Matt." Mello broke the silence.

"What for?" He knew what it was for, he just wanted to hear it in the blonde's voice, like the simple words he had spoken were not enough. He would be fine even if it was a little gesture of kindness, a fist bump, a pat on the back, a hand in his, maybe a hug….or a kiss. But he needed more than the simple words. He wanted to earn more than those words.

"You won't get anything else out of me." Mello turned his back to Matt, making the redhead smile. _Oh I might._ Matt thought.

Matt thought of instantly of Mihael and the guilt claimed him again. He felt as though he was cheating...but that couldn't be it.

"Mello?" He called out.

"Hmm?"

"You know, I've got this…friend…" Matt gripped the sheets tighter unsure whether he was doing the right thing. Mello shuffled and turned back around. "He's in sort of the same situation as you." Matt continued.

"Really?" Mello frowned in confusion. "There are lots of us who're thrown into this life without our consent, Matt….Not many of us make it."

Matt's head spun to face the blonde. "What do you mean by making it?"

"For now, making it simply means dying a natural death." Mello explained. "Y'know, dying of old age or something. Most end up as addicts themselves. Many put up too much of a fight and are kept constantly drugged and just die of an overdose themselves. Some find the easy way out." He glanced at Matt wondering if he was doing the right thing by being honest. "Y'know…they kill themselves."

Matt stared. _No please. Not Mihael._

Mello watched as Matt fidgeted with his sheets clearly getting agitated. Mello realized his worry for this friend of his and felt sorry for whoever it was.

"I can't have that, Mello." Matt frowned. "He's given me a lot and I've given him nothing so far."

"What's stopping you?"

"Things." Matt shook his head in dismissal. "It's complicated."

"Make it simple." Mello scolded, sitting up. "If you care so much then it shouldn't be so complicated."

"I know, I know." Matt admitted. "It's just….I've been so confused lately….Baah I wouldn't be this confused if I was high."

"You also wouldn't be this useful if you were high."

Matt sighed deeply and shut his eyes. "You're right." He sat up. "It's just that…." His hand reached for his hair. "I think I sort of like him….y'know?"

Mello felt his heart sink, his eyes grew larger. It didn't make any sense for him to have such a reaction. It's not like he was involved with Matt.

"…But then…I'm not sure if it's him I like….or someone else." Matt explained.

"There's someone else as well?" Mello cocked a brow. _Why the fuck do I find this douche attractive?_

"No…I mean yes…." Matt's shoulders slumped and he let his back fall into the bed. "I don't know…I'm officially with neither."

"Matt, you're a selfish bitch." Matt looked at Mello's narrowed eyes glaring daggers at him. "There you've got this friend who is need of your help and you're talking about who you like? Does it even matter? Do your selfish little feelings for him matter when his life is being fucked with?"

Matt gaped at Mello. _How does he manage to look at things in such a different view?_ He thought.

"You're right." He admitted sitting up. "It doesn't matter. There are much more important things at work here."

"Right." Mello resumed his position in the bed, back facing Matt. "And stop bothering me with your pathetic issues. I've got my own shit to deal with and I don't care where you stick your cock."

Matt smiled at how much of a liar Mello was. He knew the blonde cared. It was concern for Mihael, after all, that made Mello see things in a selfless perspective. What Matt didn't know, however, was that Mello also cared about where he "stuck his cock".

Mello shut his eyes tightly frowning and trying to ignore the ache in his chest. _Where the fuck is that laptop when you need it?_ He whined silently.

_I don't need sleep._ Matt thought as he grabbed his laptop. _And Mihael needs me._

**Moral: Want for others what you would want for yourself.**


	8. Meet the Hacker

**MEET THE HACKER**

**Date: 22** **nd** **April 2009.**

Mello quietly shut the door to Matt's room hoping the nineteen-year-old hadn't heard him leave. He had woken up a while back only to find Matt sitting against the backrest of the bed, with his laptop in his lap and a DS in his hands.  _Does he ever sleep?_  That had been Mello first thought but then he realized he,himself, slept very little or not at all when he had things to do. Mello basically ran on cocoa and caffeine.

Mello had stayed motionless in bed unwilling to move until the redhead did. He felt Matt had done enough for him.  _He's got his friend to worry about._ And Mello had decided he didn't want Matt to pay him for saving his butt. It felt unfair. So he lay in bed back facing towards the tall broad shouldered yawning boy.

After around fifteen minutes of Mello lying painfully still, Matt had decided to go to the loo and Mello had taken the chance to change into his leather, carefully fold Matt's PJs and leave.

He walked briskly to his room and shut the door behind him.  _This is a mess._  The pain in his chest reminded him and he slammed the back of his head against the door.

Mello made his way to the bathroom and hurriedly stripped hoping a hot shower would make him feel a tad bit better.

But it didn't.

He stood letting the falling water drench his hair and his back in hopes that perhaps his worries would wash away along with the dirt on his skin but all he thought about was Matt. Why he had thought that the redhead would ever want him was beyond his understanding. He thought back to his conversation last night and the conclusion he had drawn out for Matt.

 _"There you've got this friend who is need of your help and you're talking about who you like? Does it even matter? Do your selfish little feelings for him matter when his life is being fucked with?"_  He had asked Matt.

He let his head rest against the cold tiles. _He said that I'm his friend._  He thought, realizing his reaction wasn't very different from Matt's. He wasn't looking at the bigger picture. The bigger picture was that Matt was his friend and Matt had a friend who needed him. And if Matt ever asked, Mello would be there for him. The bigger picture was that Matt was an okay person helping out a friend, worrying about him even though he lived in a different world. The bigger picture was that Mello hadn't fallen for a heartless bastard all over again. He hadn't repeated his mistake. He smiled.  _I've made progress._  And progress was good.

It wasn't that he felt better. The ache in his chest was still there but it was progress nonetheless and Mello wasn't a weak person. A little bit of heart ache wasn't going to kill him.

He pulled on a pair of jeans, wrapped a towel over his head and left the bathroom. He stood by the window looking at the world outside drenched in the orange and pink of the rising sun. Mello always felt it was breathtaking in a painful sort of way how the sun always rose to remind him and creatures of the night like him that the sun always rises. It was an aching reminder to Mello that he needed to keep moving forward, that he couldn't stop, couldn't give up, couldn't surrender to the night.  _The sun is a burning ball of gases._ Mello reminded himself.  _It burns and writhes in pain but it shines over everything. It ruins all darkness… even though it'll fade and become blackness someday. It still fights. And so must I._

Mello sighed and glanced at his laptop wondering if he should vent out all he felt and get it all out, over and done with. He turned back deciding against it and moments later he rolled his eyes and walked towards it, deciding for it.

The screen glared in his face, an empty white of a boring Word Document, the same as always. It wasn't until the words had been typed that the white of it gained any meaningful existence.

>   
> _**M's Computer. Date: 22** _ _**nd** _ _**April 2009.** _  
> 

The preset header of his Word Document patiently awaited the words to follow and give the date a meaning. He watched the cursor blink, the date a constant reminder of days and ages passed with nothing changed, only wounds reopened and scars remained.

And then the screen went blank. A black stared at him.

"What the fuck?" Mello exclaimed in confusion, tapping at the escape key. What he was trying to escape he wasn't sure.

A cursor appeared on the screen, blinking mockingly white against the black, each blink increasing Mello's impatience as he tapped the escape key.

_**Hello Mihael.** _

Mello stared at the screen or more accurately at the name on the screen. This was a hack and he had no doubts about that. He was himself somewhat well versed about the topic, knew the facts, the popular hacker names, though he rarely ever used the technique himself. But he usually made all necessary precautions to avoid such a thing from happening. Moreover, once, as he could recall, just once, had he made the mistake of calling himself Mihael on the laptop. His brow tensed. "Who…", "how much…" and "just what the fuck…" became constant thoughts in his head.

He placed his fingers on the keys wondering which one to tap.

_**I hope you understand that this means your computer is hacked.** _

_**Mihael, I understand that you're shocked. I would be as well, if I were you.** _

_**But I assure you, I mean you no harm.** _

_**Let me introduce myself.** _

_**I am Mail….Mail Jeevas….** _

Mello was enraged at the balls on whoever the hell this guy was to have the guts to hack into his computer and casually drop his name as if Mello was supposed to know about him. His fingers tapped at the keys.

_And who exactly is Mail Jeevas?_

_**You can find out…But not like this. And I'm not here to talk about myself. I'm here to talk about you.** _

_Me?_

_**Yes, you, Mihael. Perhaps, I should begin with an apology.** _

_**I'm sorry for the confusion and inconvenience that I'm causing you. This is not the way I had hoped to make acquaintance with you…but unfortunately, you're really hard to find.** _

Mello waited, patience growing thinner, knowing that any wrong or sudden move would only mean disconnection from the hacker.  _Mail, whoever the hell that is._  He needed to know what was going on and impatience wasn't the way. Playing the game, even if it was just for a while, was the way.

_**I've been hacking into your computer for a while now, the first hack being somewhere in the beginning of this month. And I have been reading things you deemed personal. Perhaps, I shouldn't have but curiosity led me and for that I am sorry.** _

_**But that's merely an explanation to what I've been doing and how I know about you.** _

_**What I know about you might be the question you have in mind. So let me explain. I know you're an orphan from England, brought here by people previously working in the underworld of Britain and now located in the States.** _

_**I know that you had been duped into believing that these people who adopted you wanted to give you a home….instead they hurt you and used you for their own gains.** _

_**I know what you've worked as and that you're currently a peddler.** _

_**I know that you're hurt.** _

_**I know that four days ago you contemplated suicide.** _

The cursor blinked mockingly, reflecting itself in Mello's widened eyes.

_**Are you still with me, Mihael?** _

* * *

Matt's heart was racing, threatening to leave his chest. The words he carefully weighed and typed were threatening to flow uncontrollably from his fingers, led by manic need to come clean, to be understood, to tell Mihael that he's so giddy from being ecstatic on finding that Mihael's still living, breathing, still not too far from reach. But he tried to remain composed for Mihael's sake. Mello's words were running through his head.

"… _Do your selfish little feelings for him matter…?"_

 _No they don't._ Matt thought.  _What matters is Mihael. And right now Mihael is panicking so I need to be calm….for his sake._

_Yes…I'm still here…_

The answer came to life one little letter at a time. Each letter making Matt more and more aware of the fact that he was talking to the person who had changed his life, his mind, his world, the person who had become a piece of furniture in Matt's daily life, the piece of furniture he had fallen madly in love with and could never dream of throwing out. It was about time he asked for the consent of this piece of furniture if he wanted to be a part of Matt's life.

_I wonder why I'm here though._

_You're telling me all you know about me but you haven't told me what made you step out from behind of the bush you've been spying at me from._

Matt could help but smile.  _At least he's trying to stay calm….He's gonna kill me someday for this._

_**You're asking the right question.** _

_**The answer is simple. I spoke up because I want to help you…..and hopefully you'll help me too.** _

_Great….thanks. That's all I needed to know._

The words flickered out. The connection cut off.

"No... No, no, no, no…." Matt got busy with the keys. "He turned off his computer, didn't he? Why the fuck would he do that?"

* * *

Mello left his shut laptop and moved as fast as he could.  _This can only mean one thing._ He thought, grabbing the phone and tapping at the numbers.

He heard the soft beeps in the phone, realizing that it was early in the morning and he was probably making a mistake.

"Hello?" A voice replied groggily.

"Ross. I've got a bit of an emergency." Mello barked into the phone.

"What happened?" He heard Ross sit up as fast as he could with all the drowsiness. "Is something up with the band?"

"No. It's not the band." Mello rubbed his temples. "It's….can we meet some place? I'd rather I spoke to you in person. Don't know who might be listening in."

"Don't be paranoid, Mello." Ross let out a little laugh.

"Trust me, Ross." Mello gritted his teeth. "It's better if I meet you."

"Tell you what?" Ross yawned. "Just text me the next city you're off to. I'll make a short visit."

"We're going to be here for a while." Mello replied. "The band has two shows here."

"I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Right." Mello cut the line.

* * *

**Date: 23** **rd** **April 2009.**

Mello glanced at his laptop.  _Great._ He thought.  _There goes the only thing that would ever listen to me rant. I should get a parakeet._

He rolled his eyes. He knew it'd be over soon. He'd meet with Ross in a short while and tell him about what happened.  _Or at least half of what happened._  He knew well that all the hacker wanted was to mess with Grey's men. They happened to be one of the strongest gang in the underworld at the moment. And you don't get that strong without making enemies. Mello, however, was a weak link and they had chosen just the right link to tug at.

It wasn't that Mello felt protective over the gang but he had, personally, done a lot of damage to rival gangs and if this was an attempt at revenge from one of those rival gangs, then that meant the gang's safety was his safety. In any other case he wouldn't have bothered or would've gladly taken the chance but the hacker clearly said,  _"hopefully you'll help me too"._

The message tone of his phone gave a short beep. He gave it a quick look and left his room, making his way to the elevator.

"Mello!"

He turned to find Matt walking towards him.

"Are you going somewhere?" Matt had worry in his voice.

"My boss is in town." Mello replied. "I've got a meeting with him tonight."

He watched the redhead shuffle. His brows were knitting together. Was it anger, confusion or sadness? Mello couldn't be sure. In any case, the boy was agitated.

"What is it?" Mello inquired.

"It's that friend of mine I told you about." Matt admitted, running a hand through his hair and tugging at it. He was worried that he had said something wrong to Mihael. It felt like it hadn't even happened, like he had dreamt talking to Mihael. It had been so brief and such a huge failure that Matt felt agitated.  _Why aren't there checkpoints for life?_ He wondered.  _Why can't I just go back and try from where I last saved?_

"What about him?" Mello's voice rang through his thoughts but his head felt heavy from the sleepless nights that had all been in vain. And it wasn't just his mind that was boggled. His heart was a whole different mess.  _And this is why emotions just shouldn't exist._  He silently concluded. His silly feelings for Mihael had made him believe that something magical might just take place when he spoke to Mihael, like the stars would magically appear and everything in the world would fall into its rightful place. It'd just all be right.

But it hadn't been. It had been messy, despite Matt's efforts to not make a mess of it.

_Ding!_

"Matt!" Mello whined. "The elevator's here. What is it? What happened to that friend of yours?"

Mello stepped into the elevator and held the open button.

"He won't speak to me." Matt muttered.

"Lovers' feud?" Mello cocked a brow. "It'll be fine, Matt. He won't quit on you. You're the only one he's got."

 _Mello doesn't get it._  Matt thought.  _But how could he? He doesn't know the whole story._

"It's just…what if he does?" Matt questioningly looked at the blonde.

The look on Matt's face sent Mello's heart racing. He felt his heart melt and he hoped it didn't show on his face.  _What sort of an idiot friend is this that can't see how much this douche cares?_  He wondered.  _If it were me….if it were me I'd have him in a flash…..no, I'd probably break every bone in his body. Stupid fucking gaming nerd!_

Mello's brows tensed and he shook his head trying to get rid of his jealousy.

"Listen Matt." He said, rubbing his temples. "Is your friend an idiot?"

Matt cocked a brow and almost looked like he was going to leave the blonde without an answer. "No!" He barked.

"Then he'll come back." Mello concluded. "If he's being treated anything like me he'll gladly accept a friend….even if he merely thought of said friend as someone to vent out on."

Matt nodded, expression still tensed and worried.

"I've got to go now." Mello said half-heartedly. A part of him wanted to stay with the redhead and just whack him on the head till he lost all ability to recall this friend of his.

Matt nodded. "Thanks Mell."

Mello hit the close button repeating the nickname Matt had given him in his head.  _Mell…Mell…that sounds like Bell….It makes me sound more like a girl._  He shook the thought away.

It didn't matter after all. Matt was dedicated to whoever this friend was and Mello was just going to have to deal with the fact that he didn't have the same place in Matt's heart as this friend. Mello felt that whoever this friend was, he was lucky to have someone watching his back. Mello couldn't imagine how far he'd go for a someone like that.

Mello, at the moment, didn't have to go too far. Ross had said that he'd meet Mello at the same club the band had not too long ago held their after party at. Mello hurried in ignoring the loud music blaring in the background. The lights and the smoke charged right at him but he made his way through the squirming crowd, ignoring the people that eyed at him.

He had waited for Ross to get here all day. He had thought over and over about how the hell this Mail character had managed to hack his computer. He climbed the stairs to the VIP lounge that he had been in not many nights ago.

"Hey sexy!" An annoying voice slapped him into reality. He looked up to the top of the stairs.

"Gareth." He sneered. "How's the nose?"

"You little bitch." Gareth shook his head but smiled warmly at Mello.

"Why're you here?" Mello inquired as he reached the topmost step.

"Why! I heard my boyfriend called! I heard he was all worried about something!" Gareth took Mello's face in his hands ignoring the un-amused dry look on his face. "I decided he needs me so I should rush to his side."

"I didn't ask for you." Mello yanked Gareth's hands off of himself. "You can fuck off now."

"Is that any way to treat your boyfriend?" Gareth mused, pouting at Mello.

"No." Mello smiled. "That's how I treat my leftovers."

Gareth threw his head back in laughter. "Oh Mello!" He exclaimed. "This is why I love you so much. You-"

"Stop saying shit like that, Gareth." Mello barked at him. "We've been over for ages."

Gareth sighed deeply and glanced at Mello looking disappointed. "Mello. You used to be so much fun when you were younger." He took Mello's hands. "You used to be so full of fire and desire. What the hell happened?" He smiled scornfully.

 _You happened, you piece of shit!_  Mello thought but he didn't say a word. It was pointless to say anything. And Gareth was somewhat right. Mello used to be a bright child, angry, but bright none the less. He wanted to own the world. Anything that'd spark his interest, he'd want to own. Today, however it was a different story. Mello had been scorched by the fire of his own want and was reluctant to let it touch him again. Today he had an invisible wall around him that no one was allowed past.  _And Mail has trespassed._  He thought.  _A problem soon to be fixed._

He pulled his hands away from Gareth's. "Whatever." He barked. "I need to see Ross and I don't have much time for you."

He turned around and pushed open the lounge door.

Ross was in there along with a few of his men; Zakk Irius, a gambling man who, Mello guessed, had once been handsome and well-groomed, Gurren Hangfreeze, a bowl-cut haired well-known murderer who had spent a few years in jail and had recently been let out, Rushuall Bid, a bank thief with pointy eyebrows who had also spent a good time in jail which hadn't helped change his ways and Jack. They were cackling at the top of their lungs when he walked in, followed by Gareth.

"You gotta be pulling my leg man!" Gurren laughed. "It was that easy?!"

"That isn't even the best part!" Jack exclaimed leaning forward in his seat, slapping his palm against his thigh. "The little shit boasts a much a higher IQ than I do! And yet it was that bloody easy!"

The lot laughed and Mello merely looked down at them, mouth curling in disgust, one brow creasing angrily down and the arching far up under his fringe.

Gareth stood beside him eyeing him with a smirk plastered on his face. "Jack was telling us stories about your many adventures with the band." He said spreading his arms out with mocking elegance. "About how much they've all enjoyed having you…" He paused, settled his eyes on Mello, the way one would watch an ember slowly burn and sink into paper. Mello looked in his direction trying not to let it show that the ember had burnt him through. "….around." Gareth's smile spread further on one cheek.

Raushall cackled in the background but Mello ignored him, feeling the sweat on his back, urging his heart to implode so it would hurt less to be laughed at. He ground his teeth to a powder as subtly as his body would allow it.

"Guess what else, Mello?" Raushall's hoarse giddy voice irritated Mello enough to make him want to pound his head into the wall, and paint the walls with his brains. "The syringe had…" he chuckled. "The syringe had saline in it."

They all burst into laughter, Ross included.

"No drug….just saline." Raushall said between fits of laughter.

Gareth watched Mello, his grin now etched on his entire face. Mello stared, through narrow eyes, at the brown haired man that he used to love, wondering how good it'd feel to bite his lips off of his face. Mello's mouth twisted with the bitter taste of bitter humor. His upper lip twitched with desire as he imagined the bliss of tearing Gareth's flesh open and hacking off each of his ribs one at a time while his mouth bubbled crimson. His chest tightened, breaths grew heavier. He recalled loving this man. He recalled happiness and all the potential he used to have as a child.

Before he knew it, Mello had his hands wrapped tightly around Gareth's neck.

"You…you did this to me." He whispered through gritted. "You did this to me…you must pay."

Gareth's breathe croaked and choked in his throat. His eyes threatened to fall out of their sockets while his face turned blue and his mouth opened wide, wet tongue jutting out trying to reach for whatever little air it could gather.

Hands grabbed Mello around the waist. A pair of arms wrapped themselves around his, pulling at him so he'd let go. He felt air enter between his palms and Gareth's neck.  _No!_  He thought.  _I'll kill him! I'll fucking kill him!_

He tried to hold on with his nails but the might of three men was too much against him and soon his hands were snatching at air.

Gareth fell to the floor gasping wildly for breath.

"You…." He gasped. "you…you fucking….fucking piece of…shit."

The men let go off of Mello and Mello let his shoulders fall flat, calming himself. Raushall, Gurren and Zakk helped Gareth up.  _This is not the way, Mello._ He softly scolded himself, feeling Ross and Jack's gaze upon him.  _You've made too many rash decisions lately. You can do much better and much worse._

He turned around and left the brown haired boy still gasping on the floor.

* * *

Matt rolled on his bed, forehead creasing with worry and regret. He wished he had never spoken to Mihael. His chest had been hurting and brain rambling on and on about the littlest details about their extremely short conversation.

 _Perhaps I should've told him more about myself._ He thought.  _Pffft. Please!_  He rolled his eyes. _Like he would've trusted a recently sobered up nicotine addict. That reminds me…._ He sat up and grabbed a red box of cigarettes from his side table. He had switched to Marlboro reds just the same morning, feeling that lights just weren't strong enough for the amount of brain power he'd been using lately. It was basically the only thing that helped him calm down.

He lit up a stick, leaning against the backrest, and took a deep drag. It hit the right spot and he let the smoke rise from his mouth in a thin shapeless cloud. He had spent the entire morning jamming at the studio with the rest of the band and had spent the last two hours simply rolling around his room, doing nothing besides smoking, walking in and out of the balcony and falling on his bed. He had heard Mello come back from whatever meeting he had earlier been hurrying off to. Matt had contemplated spending a little time with the blonde to ease his anxiety but upon hearing the heavy, hurried stomping of Mello's boots he had decided against it. Whatever the meeting was about, things hadn't gone to Mello's liking.  _He must be in one of his Mimosa Pudica a.k.a. touch-me-not moods._

He glanced at his laptop.

 _Oh what's the point!_  He thought, pouting slightly and hitting his head against the wall behind the bed.

He, then, lunged for his laptop.  _Games help cure everything._ He decided but as he was about to log into the latest MMORPG he had addicted himself to, he decided to check on Mihael for no particular reason.

The connection pulled through. He stared wide eyed.  _He turned on his computer?_

Mihael had a word document open. It was blank.  _What is he waiting for?_ Matt thought.

>   
> _**M's Computer. Date: 23** _ _**rd** _ _**April 2009.** _  
> 

_Hey…Mail Jeevas…are you there?_

Matt's heart thundered in his chest. He heard it pound in his ears, the sound threatening to deafen him. A hopeful smile spread wide across his face. _Thank the fucking Gods! Thank the so-called random happenings of the universe! Thank the subatomic particles! Thank you Bill Gates! Thank you Tim Berners Lee! Fuck you very much Mihael Keehl!_

He took a quick pace of the room, hands tugging at his hair and sat back down on the bed.  _Time to take the fuck over!_  He thought tapping at keys and making arrangements.

The screen turned black. He was in.

_**I'm here.** _

_Good. I thought you had gone and died._

Matt chuckled. "That's sounds like something Mello would say." He said absentmindedly to no one.

_**Mihael, listen.** _

_No. You listen. You've done enough talk._

_What do you want from me?_

_**I want to help you.** _

_And what do I need to do in return?_

_**You don't have to do a lot.** _

_**I only want to meet you and discuss certain things with you.** _

" _certain things"…..?_  


_**Yes. You'll find out. But it can't be explained like this. I swear I mean you no harm.** _

_**Upon meeting, we can discuss how we both can help each other escape our situations. This is just a way out. I'm not trying to deceive you.** _

_**Of course, I wouldn't blame you for thinking that I am.** _

_**But ask yourself, if someone knew that you've been deceived before wouldn't they come up with a more convincing plan than simply hacking your computer?** _

_Exactly what I've been thinking for the past hour._

_**So what do you say? Yes or no? Red pill or blue?** _

For a while there was no movement. It was as if the whole world had come to stand still and held its breath in anticipation. Matt felt the sweat on his brow, grew accustomed to the hammering of his heart. He was barely aware of the fact that he was muttering "c'mon" with every breath but he was. He leaned forward. "C'mon Mihael."

_Red._

**Moral: Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.**


	9. Mail Jeevas

## MAIL JEEVAS

**Date: 24th April 2009. Time: 6pm**

Matt paced around in his room grinning widely. His heart was beating as though he had run for miles. He could barely believe what was happening. But it was making him giddy with happiness. He still had nine hours to go before he met Mihael, he realized when he glanced at the wall clock hanging patiently on the wall of his hotel room, but oh he could barely wait.

Their conversation the night before had been like a miracle to Matt, who wasn't even sure if he believed in the god sent or god, for that matter. The fact that Mihael had actually seeked him out, typed his name on a Word Document, sent butterflies fluttering in Matt's belly and made him grin until his cheeks hurt.

After all, Mihael seeking him out meant that Mihael had obviously spent a good amount of time thinking about Matt, that Matt wasn't just someone looking up at a star without the star realizing that he exists. And even something as trivial as that, shockingly, even for Matt, was enough to send him into a swoon. He was convinced that he'd make a fool of himself when the time came to actually meet this weird crush of his.

They had exchanged information about which city they were currently located in and had decided on the time and venue of the rendezvous. Apparently, Mihael was in the same city as Matt and that made Matt wonder if he had ever crossed Mihael on the street….maybe if he would've bothered to go out. Matt had, however, lied about his location for fear that Mihael might think Matt was stalking him physically as well. He had simply named a near-by town when Mihael had asked and told Mihael that they could meet up whenever Mihael wanted.

_Tomorrow._ Matt thought smiling. _He said tomorrow._

Tomorrow was here and Matt was on cloud nine.

It felt very much like a blind date to him. He tried several times to picture what Mihael would look like and only stressed himself by doing so. Mostly he pictured Mello. But he would shrug the thought thinking it was merely because he found Mello so painfully attractive. _I just want him to look like Mello._ He thought. _But I'll be fine even if he doesn't...he most probably won't._ Then he thought of the possibility that he might actually not find Mihael attractive. He didn't care either way. He looked into the mirror and figured it didn't matter one bit. I'm not exactly the hottest guy to walk on planet earth either.

He had thought of telling Mello that on this very night he was planning on sneaking out and going to see his friend. But he had finally decided against telling him anything for two reasons; He didn't know if Mihael would be comfortable with someone else knowing of their arrangement, even if it was someone Matt trusted, and because Mello was still pretty much Mimosa Pudica.

He had seen the blonde from his balcony in the afternoon walking out of the building and to the road, then heading back, then changing his mind, yelling at himself animatedly and then heading off to the road again, crossing it and disappearing around the bend.

Matt had chuckled thinking Mello looked a tad bit adorable doing whatever it was that he was doing. Then realizing what he had thought, he slapped himself and finally decided it must be because he was in such a good mood. But with time the wait for the time to pass was getting more and more agitating.

Matt walked out into the balcony and, lighting up a cigarette, he took a deep drag and watched the sun set.

_Tonight is the night._ He thought. _Tonight I'll decide how I want to live the rest of my life._

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Mello made his way back to the hotel as the sun set behind him, making sure his purchase was safe under his coat. He wasn't allowed to keep such things unless an assignment required it and this wasn't an assignment. This was personal.

He'd spent just the previous night planning for this night, the night that seemed to slowly spread all around him, and yet it felt like his entire life was leading up to this night, like this was a new beginning….or the end.

He'd turned himself in to the police before, messed with his gang's assignments when they weren't paying attention but this was direct violation. There was no turning back from here. He had decided to meet with Mail Jeevas, a hacker that he assumed was from some other gang.

He couldn't say he trusted this Mail character but he was sick and tired of living his life in circles, of being used and treated like dirt, of being merely an ass for people to kiss so he'd hand them a bag of dope, of being merely a set of holes for rich bastards to stick their filthy cocks in. He was sick and tired of his life and even if he was to die, he wanted his death to be worth remembering. He wanted to be feared, remembered, respected, echoed. He wanted to take as many with him as he could.

After all, he was going to need company in hell.

So he had violated the rule in the gang that stated that he wasn't allowed to carry guns at times when he wasn't out for an actual assassination and the rule that stated that he wasn't to meet with any person from another gang without supervision and lastly the rule that stated that he wasn't supposed to ditch his supervisor. The last one had been broken too often. It barely felt like a rule anymore, more like a formality.

He made his way to the reception in the hotel lobby.

"102." He said and took his keys from the receptionist.

What he didn't understand, however, was what Mail meant when he said, "we could both help each other escape our situations". He wondered if Mail was basically just another version of him, another person in somewhat the same situation. Either way he was determined to do something about his situation, anything.

_Ding!_

He walked into the elevator, checking himself in the mirror to make sure the bulky gun didn't look too obvious in his coat, just to make sure Jack wouldn't notice.

_Ding!_

He walked out only to find Matt waiting in the corridor.

"Hey there!" The redhead waved at him with a grin wide enough to turn his eyes into slits. "Thought I'd say hi when you come back."

"Are you stalking me?" Mello asked frowning at Matt's obviously giggly mood. With this Mail Jeevas incident, Mello had been questioning his level of privacy and felt odd and irritated at the slightest prying. He wondered just how many people were keeping an eye on him.

"No!" Matt laughed. "I was just waiting for you." Matt smiled the widest Mello had ever seen, making Mello blush slightly.

"Well here I am." He said frowning and spreading his arms.

Matt took the chance and hugged Mello, hard, as though he were a pillow. He kissed the blonde's cheek, trying not to feel like a hypocrite. He had decided he would talk to Mihael about Mello. He would make both Mihael and Mello a part of his plan. Both had become insanely important to him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Mello yelled at the redhead, startled by the hug. He pushed Matt away, hoping Matt hadn't felt the gun in his coat. He had come inches from knowing Mello had one though.

"I'm in a good mood!" Matt grinned.

"I can tell." Mello frowned harder, if that was even remotely possible. "Any reason for this sudden bliss? Something to do with your friend perhaps?"

Matt ran a hand through his hair and chuckled. "Well, yes. He's talking to me again." He said, deciding against telling Mello about the rendezvous just yet. _I'll tell him when it's over._

"Well, I told you so." Mello remarked trying to mask his bitter jealousy. He didn't have time to be jealous, he needed to go meet up with Mail Jeevas and having a gun on him was becoming a slight problem. "I've got to go, Matt. I want to sleep early tonight."

Matt thought it was odd that Mello said that. Mello was usually the last one to go to bed and the first one to rise. He stared at the blonde's back wondering if he had really felt something hard a little below his arm when he hugged Mello or if he was just imagining things.

Mello didn't look back when he shut the door. Pulling out the gun he stared hard at it. _Will I use it if I need it?_ He wondered but he knew that if he was cornered he'd do anything to escape so Mail better be convincing lest he wants to breathe his final breaths in Mello's presence.

He looked at the wall clock. There was still time...a lot of time. Jack was in his room and the rest had been pretty much useless all day. They had a gig planned for the day after tomorrow but so far they hadn't gotten much practice done. Mello guessed they'd probably go out for a party tonight or hold one in the hotel. That's what they seemed to do when they were lazy.

Mello had already decided what he'd do. He couldn't use the excuse for buying the stash any longer sine he had already bought the stash for the week. He had decided, however, that he'd tell Jack that Ross had called him in an emergency. Jack wouldn't question it if Ross's name was used. And Mello could only hope that Ross wouldn't find out. It was a risk he was willing to take.

\-------------------------------------------------------

**Date: 25th April 2009. Time: 3:30am**

Matt was pissed.

It was three-thirty in the morning and foggy and Matt was pissed.

He was running towards the small stone bridge he had promised to see Mihael at but he was pissed….at himself.

_I'm late!_ He thought, running in the cold wind, the coat collar around his jaw keeping him warm. _I'm fucking late!_

He could see the bridge but he couldn't make out if anyone was there.

His heart thumped harder in his chest. He wasn't sure if it was the effect of all the cigarettes he had smoked or the fact that he was going to see Mihael shortly, whatever the case, he was pissed, pissed because he was late to see Mihael. He heard clouds grumble above him and thought that it might rain but it didn't matter. Mihael would still be there. _Would he?_ He thought. _I'm half an hour late. Would he wait for me?_

Matt slowed down a when he reached a little distance from the bridge and, panting, he doubled over taking deep breaths to repay the oxygen debt.

The bridge was an archway over a thin stream of water that spread into a large man-made lake. The city glowed orange in the distance. The small bridge itself was lit by four light poles on four stone pedestals that were, in thickness, twice the size of Matt and, in length, made it to his chest. On each side of the bridge was a thicket of trees that dimmed the light considerably and made shadows that danced on the bridge in the wind.

Matt saw a lone figure peering over the stone barrier on the other end of the bridge, back facing towards Matt. He couldn't make out much, just that Mihael was in black. The fog was messing with his goggles. He ripped them off and took a step closer with care. He could make out a black coat with fur on the collar...much like Mello's. Mihael turned his face at an angle looking out at the city and Matt stopped in his tracks. His eyes grew larger. It was Mello…not Mihael. The same hair, the same face, the same icy blue eyes.

He slowly walked backwards, hoping the blonde wouldn't hear his footsteps, and crouched behind the pedestal nearest to him.

_What the fuck is he doing here?_ He hissed. _Was he looking for me?_ He peered from the side of the pedestal. It really was Mello. He even had a bar of chocolate. Matt could make out its characteristic snap. _Did Larry find out that I was gone and send him to find where I'm at? But if that was the case then how did he get here before me?_ He had already made it a point to tell the rest that he won't join them at the club using drowsiness as an excuse and he knew that Mello had another meeting with his boss tonight. _Then why was he here? Ah fuck! Leave, Mello! Mihael won't show with him still here! What if Mihael mistakes him for Mail?_

Matt decided he would wait here for any signs of Mihael and make sure that Mello doesn't see him.

Mello snapped another piece of chocolate and rolled it on his tongue. He's late, the twat. He thought looking down at his phone. Forty-five fucking minutes late. _Could this be a trap? Should I have stayed at the hotel?_

Time went by. Mihael was an hour late and Matt, stubbornly keeping hope, watched Mello look at his phone over and over. _Is he waiting for someone?_ He thought. _Funny, all three of us are waiting._ Then it hit him. There were only two of them. No third person. Mello was waiting for someone that wasn't showing up and so was Matt. _No, Matt, don't be silly._ He shrugged the thought but it left a weird twinge in his heart.

Matt waited ten more minutes for someone to come and break the spell of the silence and stillness that had fallen over the night. But nothing changed only Mello's level of patience. Matt watched as he shifted from one foot to the other, turned to look at either sides of the bridge, frowned, kicked at the barrier and went back to staring angrily at the city. _Could it be…?_ Matt pieced an odd sort of theory in his head.

He rummaged through his brain trying to piece his crazy theory together. He leaned his back against the pedestal ignoring the fatigue in his legs. He thought of how Mello had never mentioned parents or family. He thought of how in his second rant Mihael had described himself as a well-dressed blonde with hair that fell around his neck. Matt's head spun to look at Mello as if he had never seen the peddler before. His heart thundered in his chest. Mello's hair fell around his neck and was unmistakably golden.

"Chocolates!" Matt whispered thinking of how Mihael had mentioned that he had behaved at the party so he could get chocolates and time in the library. Mello was an obvious chocoholic and Matt couldn't believe he had never made the connection.

He felt like the ground was slowly slipping from under his feet and he tried to find something to hold on to. _It can't be!_ He urged his brain to some other detail. _There's got to be some other explanation._

Mihael had mentioned being in the line of drugs. Matt knew this by heart. How had he never made that connection either? He rubbed his temples, thinking harder to make sure he was right.

He thought about how adamant Mihael was to stand against the system he was serving and how Mello had told him that he didn't "give a shit" what they were huffing, how Mello rarely drank, never did drugs. He thought of how Mihael had contemplated suicide only a few days after Mello's incident with Joey and Larry. Coincidence…isn't it?

Matt thought back to the well-stylized cocky way in which Mihael had answered Gareth in his second rant and realized he could picture Mello doing just that.

"I thought you had gone and died." Mihael had said.

"That sounds like something Mello would say."

It was something Mello would say.

"It's him." He whispered to himself, forehead creasing with a mix of emotions, eye wide as plates, the tears in them were either of joy or shock, if there ever were such tears, he wasn't sure but they were there, sure as the moon in the sky, sure as the yearning ache in his chest, sure as the way the world seemed to have stopped in the moment of realization. His hands reached his lips. He thought of all he had read about Mihael, about Mello. All he had seen of Mello and it was so difficult to stop his heart from taking that plunge from want to need, long to crave, hurt to ache, attraction to lust, crush to love.

He turned around and peered at the blonde again. This time it wasn't like when he had first seen the blonde. He was still looking very much like a cat but now he saw not just the petite waist, the long tightly wrapped legs, the lean chest and the blue eyes but the heart and the mind that made all of them what they were. He saw the scars on Mello's wrists from when Larry, Joey or Jack must've bound him. He saw the blonde cry before his boyfriend urging him to be there for him. He saw the blonde yell for help after accidentally becoming the reason for someone's death. He pictured Mello at his laptop, pouring his soul out, alone in the dark. He saw a small back with the weight of the world.

He hushed his thoughts. His ears buzzed with the adrenaline, heart hammered deafeningly against his ribs, the goose bumps on his skin sent shudders down his back.

Here he was. The perfect being and Matt could barely believe he took so long to see it. There was no comparing Mello with anyone. Mello was Mihael. Mihael was Mello and Matt was madly in love.

He stepped out from behind the pillar, eyes still on Mihael….Mello. A part of him wanted to rush towards the blonde, hold him and not say a single word, let silence do the trick but this was complicated. And Mello must be getting impatient.

He slowly walked towards the blonde trying to phrase his story, trying to understand how to make Mello understand what he himself didn't know or wasn't sure of. There was only one way to make sure. He reached a few feet away from the blonde afraid that he would disturb the blonde's fragile world if he moved any closer.

"Mihael?" Mello heard a familiar voice behind him, calling out a name that had become a little hushed secret with him.

He turned around and found a tall redhead before him. He was wearing a red and black striped shirt with a fur-lined beige coat over it, worn out blue jeans and biker boots. The goggles that were usually perfectly placed on his face were in his hands. The blue of his eyes stared intently at Mello. But Mello's brows knit together with confusion on being unable to understand what Matt was doing there and why he knew…..

"You?" He asked eyes growing wide with horror. _Is he really…..?_

"It's me." Matt took a careful step towards Mello. "Mail…Jeevas."

Mello looked at the man before him from top to bottom and back up.

"How….I mean…" He shook his head. "What…What's going on?"

Matt walked closer in a hurry this time wanting to be by Mello's side so he wouldn't panic. But he already had. Matt stopped abruptly faced by the barrel of a gun. Mello's bar of chocolate fell to the floor.

"Who're you working for?" Mello inquired, anger rich in his icy eyes.

"No one." Matt replied calmly. He wasn't startled. He wasn't even angry at Mello for doubting him. Given the things Mello had been through, all the rough roads, Matt could never dream of ever really being angry at him ever again. He was determined to be by Mello's side no matter what. Mello could put him through whatever testing and interrogation he wanted to put him through. He'd bear with it with utmost pleasure.

"Who are you?"

Matt smiled tenderly at Mello. "I'm Mail Jeevas."

"No." Mello shook his head feeling the tears welling in his eyes. "You're…Matt." What's going on? The man before him was the only person he'd ever met that he'd ever been even remotely glad to meet. _Was he also lying to me? Why is everyone always lying to me?_

"Yes." Matt nodded taking a step closer to the blonde wanting to hold him. The barrel of the gun slammed softly into his chest. "I am Matt…Let me explain-"

"Explain this!" Mello yelled moving the gun to point between Matt's eyes. "Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't." Matt swallowed trying to remain as unfazed as he possibly could with his heart hammering at the thought of the gun. "I didn't know, Mell. I didn't know it was you. If I would've known," He looked around hoping the calm cityscape in the back, the cold winds, the rumbling clouds, the thicket of trees, something would help him find the right words. "If I would've known I would've kept you with me ever fucking minute, every second-"

"Don't try to sweet talk me." Mello's voice shook. He saw sincerity in Matt's eyes but he wasn't giving up just yet. He wasn't prepared to blindly trust anyone. "What are you?"

"I'm an orphan." Matt responded instantly. "I've been a hacker for ages….for longer than I've been a guitarist. I do it for fun…just the way I do everything else…for no real purpose…just for the fuck of it. It's usually not like this, Mell. It's usually just…" He wished for words to fall out of thin air. "Usually I find…porn or personal pictures or little nothings. I never expected to find anything this serious. I stumbled upon you and that's it."

Mello realized Matt wasn't lying. If Matt wanted to, he could come up with a better lie, something more believable than the long list of coincidences surrounding their current situation. He lowered his gun but not his guard.

Matt watched Mello rub his temples and do a little turn. He stood still knowing the blonde still had him under scrutiny.

"And what were you hoping to achieve by asking me to come here?" Mello asked. Matt being a mere guitarist and a hacker with no affiliation to any gang whatsoever meant one thing, that Mello had been wrong about Mail. Suddenly Mello was grateful he hadn't said a word to Ross or Gareth about Mail. Matt had stumbled upon a mess too big for him. _He can't be a part of this._

"I wanted…" Matt struggled knowing that most of his motive came from being worried about Mihael. "I wanted to see you…give you whatever I could."

Something snapped in Mello's head. His head spun to look at the redhead. "How, pray tell are you going to manage that?" he barked. "Are you going to fix me? Fix this mess? Can you, Matt?" He stepped closer to the redhead rage boiling in his eyes. "Can you fix what I've become? Can you fix what I couldn't?"

"I never said I could fix you." Matt said softly. "I don't think you need fixing. I think you're perfect." Mello stepped backwards, taken aback by the words that had flown out of Matt's mouth without a single moment of hesitation. It was as if his words were set in stone to him, unfazed and unchangeable. "I only want to give you what you want…an escape route."

"Escape route?" Mello's eyes narrowed. "How're you going to give me that? How am I going to escape?"

"Run away with me, Mello." Matt's words hit Mello like a crashing wave, leaving him numb and thoughtless. "I'm leaving and I want you to come with me."

For a while there was silence. Mello simply stared at Matt with eyes the size of cannon balls. His limbs felt numb and limp. He tried to wrap his head around all the surprises of one night. His neck was growing hot but he wasn't sure if it was anger, craving, attraction or just the adrenaline. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't understand what turn his life was trying to take.

It was like life had opened a door in his face, a door he wasn't familiar with. Everything the door held was shrouded in darkness, save the figure of the broad shouldered, determined, kind-faced boy that stood before him and even the boy was a shadowy figure he barely knew. The what-ifs of the unseen things beyond made him skeptical.

He looked back at the things on his side of the door. There was sex, drugs, lies, betrayal, scum, filth and whatnot. But they were things Mello had gotten used to, become familiar with.

"That's your brilliant plan?" His voice choked in his throat. "Run away with you? That's what you want?"

"It's the only thing I can do." Matt pleaded. "I'm sorry. I wish there was more-"

"This isn't less!" Mello yelled agitated with the redhead. "This isn't less, Matt. This is too much. It's madness!" His voice echoed in the night. He let the echoes fade. Silent drizzle began to fall over them. "You want to give up all you've got and leave? With me? What for, Matt? What for? Why do you want it?"

"Because…" Matt tried to phrase the right words. "Because I've never done anything I wanted. Because I want to start over. Because I need to make a difference…" His words choked in his throat. He tried swallowing the lump, tried to break free from the person that he was trying so hard not to be anymore, tried to be brave. "Because I love you."

Another silence ensued. The drizzle had dampened Mello's leather and fur. The fur on Matt's coat and his hair was also adorned with little droplets of water, like dew on petals. Mello let the silence linger. He tried to come to terms with all he had found out so far. About the path life was taking him on and about Matt...Mail….the hacker….the guitarist…but eventually….the orphan. But then this? All of this was too much for one night. He thought back to what he felt about Matt, about how content he had been with knowing he hadn't fallen for a selfish person again, about the way he had been trying to bury his feelings for days now.

"Your friend…." Mello whispered. "You said you loved your friend."

"I was talking about Mihael." Matt replied. His head was beginning to feel tired. He himself had just figured out the strange turn his life had taken, the odd things about his life he himself wasn't aware of, and was finding it tiresome to have to explain it to Mello.

"And you said there was someone else."

"I was talking about you…..Mello, you….not Mihael you."

Mello cocked a brow, bewildered by the strangeness of the scenario. "You were confused between….me and….me?"

"I guess that's the gist of it." Matt took the moment to lean against the barrier and pull out a cigarette. It was not only long overdue but also pretty much a requirement at this point. Taking a deep drag of the cigarette, he ran a hand through his hair and couldn't help but smile a little at the irony of things, the coincidences, the peculiarity. _Was it fate? Destiny?_ He wondered. _What happened here? Why did it happen?_ But those questions were a mere marvel at the happenings of life and the universe, the beauty of existence itself. The result, however, was that Matt was content in that moment. It felt as though he had achieved something, been through something, experienced divinity, attained a story to tell….like an achievement unlocked.

"I'm so glad it's you….I always pictured you." He said softly and looked up at the blonde. "Not that way!" he remarked, shaking his hands when he noticed how the blonde's brows moved further up his fringe. "I just always pictured you when I thought of Mihael…..I can't believe I was dumb enough never to see it. The signs were always before me. The similarities are right there. I saw. I just never looked." _Just like I heard you but never listened. Why? Why do I keep failing you? If I would've figured it out sooner, perhaps all that mess with Larry, Joey and Maddie wouldn't have happened…._

Mello gawked at the red head rapidly growing wetter in front of him, the damp cigarette, threatening to go out, raising smoke from Matt's lips.

_He wanted to be there for me?_ He thought. _He was looking for me? I was right there and yet he searched. He knew what I was and yet he cared? Wasn't he afraid that I might kill him for knowing too much?_

"You came here and wanted to run away with me, despite knowing that if I wanted, I could kill you." He tried to keep his voice steady, tried not to let fear become known. But it was a thing with Mello. He feared anyone who was kind to him. He couldn't help it. The only people who had ever been kind to him had ruined his life. "Do you trust me with your life?"

"Yes. I trust you enough to know you won't kill me unless I intended to hurt you. And I trust myself enough to know I'd never give you a reason to doubt me." Matt replied without hesitation. "And you haven't killed me yet. Does that mean you trust me?"

_Does it?_ Mello wondered. _Do I?_ His shoulders slacked as he realized what he lacked. He looked yearningly at Matt, feeling the envy brew inside of him. He was jealous of Matt, jealous that Matt still had what it took to trust someone.

"I wish I had the courage to trust someone, Matt." Mello leaned his back against the barrier beside Matt. "I doubt I'll ever be able to trust anyone."

"Does that mean you're going to kill me?" Matt wondered out loud. For some reason, he didn't feel bad about the thought. He didn't feel like he would mind giving Mello his life but he would prefer to live and run away with Mello.

"No." Mello replied frowning slightly. "What kind of a heartless jackass would that make me?"

Matt chuckled. "I always thought you were a little bit of a heartless jackass."

Mello smiled, staring at the steadily falling drops of water on the granite of the road. "Perhaps, not to that extent…..I don't mind breaking your bones though."

Matt scanned Mello's smile from the corner of his eyes. It wasn't that he wasn't aware that he had not long ago confessed his love. He merely didn't want to think about it. He was very aware of it. His heart was in agony from the delay in the answer. He knew Mello hadn't said anything in reply yet, neither a yes nor a no. _What does that mean?_ But whatever it meant he still couldn't deny how madly he was beginning to feel for the blonde. Mello was inches away from him and even that was proving to be enough to make his hair stand on its edge.

He turned to face Mello. "Run away with me, Mell." He brought it up again. "Let's go somewhere far away from this, from them."

The blonde's brows creased and he let his gaze fall on his gloved hands, wondering if the hands that had caused so much bloodshed, addiction, death deserved to be cleansed from their sins.

"Then what, Matt?" He asked in a whisper. "What will happen once we've gone away? Is life going to change? Whatever will happen to me will happen. What about you? You're not a criminal. Why're you dragging yourself into this life?"

"Mello you taught me to do what I believed was right." Matt retorted. "This is right."

"This is madness!" Mello cried punching his own thigh and leaving the railing. "Matt….I'm…grateful." He stood to face Matt. "I'm grateful that you care. I'm grateful that there's someone out there who would want to give so much away for my sake." He took Matt's face in his hands, looked into his eyes hoping he'd see just how much passion was running through his veins, just how difficult it was for him to hold himself back. "It's enough for me to know that someone cares. That's enough for me to live." He wrapped his arms around Matt's broad shoulders leaning into his chest. It felt like home, like Mello belonged there. He wanted to break down and bawl like a child, shed all his fears and come clean of all his baggage. But he stopped the brimming tears in his eyes from overflowing and pulled away before Matt could hold him there. "But I can't put you through this. I can't bear the responsibility of ruining your life."

Matt stared at Mello, letting his statement seep into his brain. The blonde pulled away from him taking warmth with him. Matt watched as Mello took a few steps backwards and then turned to leave.

"Larry won't let me quit." Matt called out. Mello turned around to look back at him. Matt was glad he had the blonde's attention for a while. "They said they hired me to look good in front of the public. I'm just a marketing strategy. It's got nothing, or little, to do with having a talent. You taught me about voicing my opinions, doing what I feel is right, being myself. I did. I said I wasn't okay with the way things were in the band." He closed the gap between them a little. "Larry says he won't let me leave until I've paid him what I owe him."

"And he isn't wrong, Matt." Mello responded in a hushed voice, careful not to hurt Matt. "If you signed a contract, Matt, then you should at least wait till you've repaid him. I talked about being yourself, Matt. Yes, I did. But I never said that you should unnecessarily break the law. Look," Mello raised hands to get Matt's attention. "I'm not a strong advocate of the law or the system. The system is fucked and I can see that but think about the consequences. If you get caught you'll spend the rest of your life in jail but if you stay and wait it out you'll earn your freedom. Running and hiding for the rest of your life isn't called freedom."

"Mello I was fifteen when I signed that contract." Matt tried explaining. "I was fifteen when Larry first got me drugs. I'm not saying I wasn't at fault. But he pushed drugs to a minor. Am I not right for wanting to be away from that?"

"Just wait it out, Matt." Mello urged. He knew Matt had a point but he didn't want Matt to have the life of a fugitive. "Then you'll be free. Don't make any unnecessary-" Mello's eyes widened with realization. He gawked at Matt. "You said you were fifteen?"

"Yeah." Matt frowned. "What about it?"

"That makes you a minor." Mello started.

"I know-"

"Meaning your contract was void." Mello grabbed Matt's shoulders and shook him. "A contract is void when signed by a minor."

Matt stared at Mello, eyes growing wide as plates. _Did Larry know?_ He thought but he knew the answer. _The man was used to signing contracts and making deals. Of course he knows. Was he trying to fool me? Does this mean that there was never an investment in me? That he simply made me earn to repay for something that was never spent? That I was basically just earning and he was eating my money away? That there is no end to this? Wasn't this like slavery?_

Mello looked at Matt pleadingly. "I'm sorry Matt." He understood the pain of being cheated like that, waking up one morning and realizing you've been living a lie for so long. And this is what Mello meant by the pains of being an orphan. This is what Mello thought was true loneliness, when people feigned compassion and treat one like a fool, like a lesser being, merely because they, the orphans, didn't have anyone to guard them from the evils of the world. "But…this means you can leave." He smiled at Matt. "You can leave without having to run. You can go to court."

"No." Matt shook his head, feeling the hot tears brim in his eyes. Before this moment he had never really felt the pain of being an orphan. He always just kept himself too busy to really feel it. It was always an ever-present pain that he never allowed to come to the forefront. When he was younger he'd say, "who needs parents when you've got video games?". Growing up, there became several variations of this statement. One of which was, "who needs parents when you've got Larry?"

He knew Larry wasn't the best person on earth. He was always aware of that, and with the incident with Mello and when he found out his own worth in the band he had found out it was merely a business. Larry was a mere businessman but at least he had found Matt useful. Now, however, it was different. Now it was obvious that Larry wasn't even a businessman but a cheat, a cheat who fooled an anti-social fifteen year old orphan into a life too fast for him to keep track of. _Did he look down on me?_ Matt wondered. _Did he ever laugh at me and think, "what an idiot"?_ Suddenly all of Mello's rants weren't someone else's experiences but his own.

"Matt?" Mello took Matt's face in his hands.

"I can't leave Mell." Matt said, the hot tears rolling down his cheeks. "I can't prove it." Mello's eyes widened. The hair on his body stood in attention. "I can't prove that I was fifteen. I've never had any proper paperwork, besides the contract."

"Your name." Mello urged on. "What's your real name?"

"Mail Jeevas." Matt answered, exhausted by all the novelty of the situation. He already knew the way Mello was taking the conversation and that it would be another dead end. "But I signed as Matt."

"There." Mello smiled hoping his smile would ease Matt's suffering a bit. "You signed under a false name. That's another reason for the contract to be void."

"Mello…It won't work." Matt's eyes were red by now, forehead creasing with self-pity. "I've never registered myself as Mail." He half regretted all the ambiguity surrounding his own name..his own history. It was as if his own self was abandoning him. "But if they follow my records in the orphanage they'll find Matt."

Mello stared as Matt reduced to tears and fell into his arms. Mello felt urgency rising within him. He could see himself in Matt now. He could see just how stuck they both were. It was making his chest tighten and ache. The system, that was supposed to be made to protect people like him and Matt, was what wrapped tight reigns around their necks. However, those responsible for putting them there, roamed free. Where was compassion? Where were the human rights? Where was God?

"Mello?" Matt pulled away from Mello, wiping his tears, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "Help me."

**Moral: Life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans. [John Lennon]**


	10. Chapter 10: Miracles and Dares

**26th April 2009:**

The crowd was cheering despite Matt's terrible performance. Matt wondered why, but it barely mattered. He stomped through the backstage corridor and into his dressing room. He could hear footsteps, urgent and steady following after him but he shut the door behind himself anyways and ripped his respirator off.

The door whizzed open behind him and he had to grit his teeth to contain his anger.

_If it's Larry, I'll fucking kill him._

"Matt! The hell is wrong with you?" The voice was unmistakably Joey's but to Matt that was only a step away from being Larry.

"Leave, Joey." He replied trying to keep anger from showing in his voice. "I'm not in the mood right now."

"You haven't been in the mood for two fucking days." Joey's fist fell against the door frame with a loud thud. Matt swirled around to face the man.

"What part of leave don't you understand?" He asked lip curling in attempts to hold back all the anger he had been carrying for two days. Ever since the night at the bridge Matt had been on edge. In fact, that in itself was an understatement. Every time he thought about back to the things he had found out, his mouth curled with the bitter aftertaste of betrayal from the very person he had till recently considered his savior, the reason for his easy life. He had been wrong about Larry, even when he thought less of him. Larry wasn't a horrible person. He was a downright cunt. And every time Matt thought about it, he wanted to slam his guitar into the man's head and rid the world of his existence. He suddenly knew what it felt like to be Mihael, to hate everything around you, to hate what you do, to hate what the world had turned you into.

And Mihael, himself, was right now a throbbing ache in Matt's chest. He hadn't been back to the hotel since the night at the bridge. He had promised to help Matt and had left for Larry's office to find Matt's documents and see if there were any chances of him getting out of it the lawful way. It had been two days and the blonde wasn't back. Matt had asked for his phone number to keep in touch but the phone had been switched off for a day now and Matt was worried sick.

Lastly, Matt didn't even want to think about the fact that so far his confession to Mihael had been entirely in vain. He kept regretting it. Every time his brain went back to the moment in which he said three easy words placed together to become a powerful sentence that could never be unsaid, he felt his knees would give in and the acid in his stomach would come pouring out of his mouth burning his body along the way. _Never should've said it._ He kept thinking. _Never should've._

With all of those mixed emotions Matt had barely been able to play properly. He had already stormed out of every jamming session they'd had the day before. It would just become very difficult to deal with practicing when Larry would walk in. And now, he had even messed up their concert. And though the crowd barely seemed to care, it was a blow to the band's reputation and probably even their sales, which incidentally was all that Larry and Joey ever cared about.

"Don't fuck with me, you little bitch!" Joey grabbed Matt's collar and yanked him painfully down to be on eye level with him.

"Joey!" Matt heard Jerry's voice from the doorway. "Let him go man!"

"This little fuck needs to learn his lesson." Joey muttered through gritted teeth, raising a fist.

Jerry grabbed his hand before he could land the punch. "Give me a minute to speak to him, Joey." Jerry said calmly. "I'll figure this out. Don't work yourself up."

Joey's grip on Matt's collar eased and he turned to leave noisily. Jamie, who must've followed Jerry, walked in and shut the door.

"Matt, what's wrong with you?" Jerry asked pleadingly. "Dude, is this about the whole Mello thing? Or is it about what we're trying to portray as a band?"

"It's about every-fucking-thing!" Matt barked at the taller man.

"We're not going to know unless you tell us." He heard Jamie's lowered soft voice but continued to stare angrily at Jerry.

"Yeah, Matt." Jerry chimed in, calmness rich in his voice. "Listen I know you're messed up about Larry. We realize that he sort of threatened you into staying but being this way will only make things worse."

"You don't understand, Jerry." Matt turned away from the twins. "It's already much worse."

"Like Jamie said, we won't know unless you tell us. Just tell us what's wrong."

"My life is a lie." Matt sneered, tugging painfully at his hair. "That's what's wrong."

\---------------------------------------------------

Mello walked briskly through the corridors of the hotel. He knew the band must be back from the show by now. _They'd probably be packing._ He thought. _That gives me little time to get to Matt._

He half ran towards Matt's room.

"Where've you been?" He heard Jack's hoarse voice from behind him just as he reached Matt's door. He turned around.

"I was with Ross." He cocked a brow. "I thought I told you."

"What did he need you for?" Jack pestered on.

"Jack, do I hear you questioning Ross's wishes?"

"No. Of course not!" The man backed off instantly, shaking his head at the absurdity of Mello's question. "I was just curious."

The door next to Mello creaked open. Matt peered out.

"There you are." Matt looked angrily at Mello. "Hurry up and come in. I don't have all day."

Mello ignored the harsh treatment realizing it was all to get Jack off of his back and walked into Matt's room. Shutting the door behind him, he noticed the melancholy Matt had drowned himself in. The redhead looked visibly hunched over and dejected as he walked towards his bed ahead of Mello. The room smelled so strongly of smoke that Mello was half tempted to borrow Matt's respirator. The curtains were drawn and the room was dank and dark.

Mello followed after Matt. He had been thinking too much about the night at the bridge, about the things Matt had said, about how weak his knees had felt when he had heard that poisonous confession of love pour from his lips, about just how unsure Mello was about everything, Matt included, about how scared being unsure made him.

"Give me some good news, Mello." The redhead's plea reminded Mello of the stern way in which he had asked Mello for help. Mello would've mistaken it for an order was it not for the way his voice had quivered and betrayed him.

"I can't be sure if this will be greeted as good news." Mello seated himself on the bed, next to Matt. "I looked through all of your documents. I've got pictures." Mello rummaged through files on his phone and handed the device to Matt once he had the images ready. "The one thing that I find strange is that they never mention just how much you owe them or even how much they have so far spent on you. This makes it impossible to tell whether you're already done paying them back or not. But it can also be used as leverage in court. The problem, however, is that you, yourself are a rather ambiguous character and will be considered untrustworthy in the eyes of the jury. They'll ask things like what reason did you have to sign under a fake name etcetera, things you don't have an answer to. But to add a plus, the company, and Larry, are also rather ambiguous. So basically I think whoever wins the jury's hearts first is more likely to win the case."

Mello watched Matt rub his chin with a gloved hand. He looked like he had aged years in just two days. There was a rough red stubble growing from his chin and his hair looked unwashed and matted. Mello was almost tempted to kiss Matt's lips as he watched Matt's fingers brushed over them, but he stopped himself wondering just how lowly Matt would think of him if he knew the way he had wanted Matt. I'll be a whore not just in name but in essence to want a guy even though I know so little about him. He thought. No. I mustn't come off as a needy little bitch. All good things to those who wait.

"How do I do that?" Matt thick voice brought Mello back from his thoughts. "How do I win the jury's hearts before Larry does?"

"The best, and probably only workable way of doing so would be to come clean." Mello replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "And when I say come clean I mean you're going to have to admit to hacking, faking passports, IDs, papers, names, everything. You'll just have to register yourself as Mail Jeevas properly and be Mail not Matt. Matt will die once you confess or it could become a stage name, if you prefer."

The teenager looked troubled. His eye brows creased and Mello almost wanted Matt to look at him, something he hadn't done since the beginning of their conversation. Matt left the bed, and Mello's phone on it, and walked slowly towards his laptop, deep in thought, from what Mello could tell. A distracted hand traced the contours of the laptop on his desk.

"What if I don't want to?" Matt's voice was barely audible to Mello.

Mello followed behind him.

"Matt, I'm not going to tell you how to live your life but this might be your only way out."

"No." Matt's back stubbornly faced Mello. "It's just the preferable option."

Mello knew he what Matt was measuring the option against and knew that Matt was right. Confessing was just the preferable option but not the sole way out.

"What're my chances," Matt inquired. "If I confess?"

"I can't be sure." Mello replied honestly, unable to lie to the boy. My words changed him, opened him to a world he was so far ignorant of. Mello thought. He's somewhat my responsibility. "Assuming that Larry doesn't have the power to manipulate the jury to his advantage from under the table, you'll have a chance at winning the case, but you'll probably have to do time for hacking and fraud. And even then, I cannot be sure just how long the case would take."

"Then I reject this option." Matt turned and his eyes met Mello's, fixed, unmoving and sure of themselves. For a second Mello felt like his body would reject his control and grab the boy, but it seemed like even his body knew not what to do and for that Mello was thankful. "I don't want to leave things to chance. I'm out of here as soon as I can."

"I'm not going to stop you." Mello's eyes were fixed on Matt. "And I swear never to let anyone find out but I would still advice you against it. You have a comfortable life here, Matt." His voice dropped. "You could try and wait till you have a better chance against Larry."

"What if a better chance never shows up? No, Mello." Matt shook his head. "I don't want this anymore. I'm a fucking mess. I want my life back. I won't be someone's bitch unless I myself chose to be." Matt's eyes were welling up and Mello was losing his will to stay composed. He wanted Matt's face in his hand, his lips on Matt's, moving until Matt found comfort in them. "And you." Matt continued. "Aren't you coming with me?"

"That would be absurd Matt." Mello's eyes darted away from Matt's.

"Absurd?" Matt laughed. "And staying in this freak show wouldn't be absurd?"

"Matt!" Mello raised his voice, agitated by Matt's laughter. "If you go, you could be considered missing or dead, in time. If I go with you, they'll know! The entire mafia will be looking for us! The streets won't be safe! Where the fuck would we go then?"

"And you want to spend the rest of your life in fear, is that it?" Matt sneered at Mello, a twisted smirk finding its way onto his face.

"It's not fear, Matt!" Mello yelled. "It's rational thinking!"

Silence fell between them in which their eyes carved into each other's. Matt's shoulders eased.

"I thought Mihael was the sort of person who would take a chance." Matt sneered at Mello. "You're a disappointment in comparison."

Within seconds Matt's back was bent backwards onto his table. Mello's arm pinned his neck painfully down, his other hand raised in a fist, ready to pound Matt's face in.

"Since when did you become the judge of me?" Mello growled. "Just because I haven't told you just how pissed off I am about you going through my things doesn't mean I'm not pissed."

Matt simply stared at the blonde through wide eyes under creased brows. Mello's face was so close to him, he could taste the man's anger. Mello let loose.

"Do whatever the fuck you want." He turned and walked towards the door. "I don't give a flying fuck."

"Mello!" Matt called out. "Wait!"

"No, Matt." Mello stopped in his tracks. "You can fuck off now."

"Fine then!" Matt yelled. "I'm leaving without you."

The door slammed shut and Matt was left alone in the darkness of his own room.

\--------------------------------------------------------

**Date: 27th April 2009.**

_I am an idiot!_ Matt scolded himself letting his head fall against the flimsy plastic fixed table in the tour bus. _I told myself I'll stay calm for his sake then what the fuck went wrong with me? Did I think he would agree on going away with me if I treated him like shit?_

He had been kicking himself all day for having yelled and mocked at Mello. He looked behind him to glance at the blonde and tried to refrain from thinking just how beautiful he was. Mello was seated with Jack and Larry. Matt guessed they were discussing their final show. There were four gigs left for the tour to end and the last one was already over-booked. It was proving to be bigger than all of their previous gigs. They were going to have to change the venue from within the city to out in some dead northern town that Matt hadn't even heard of. Larry, however, felt it would be a more suitable venue. Apparently, Larry also wanted to hire some muscle to keep the crowd from going too wild. Matt, however, thought that unnecessary considering the fact that the real serpents weren't in the crowd but on the stage.

Matt turned back around and frowned at his laptop screen, wondering just how Mello could keep a straight face around Larry and Jack. The bus came to a halt at a gas station and Matt was almost ecstatic about being able to rid himself of Larry for a while. He grabbed his pack of Marlboro reds and his lighter and left the bus.

Matt squinted his eyes in the sunlight and, pulling his goggles on, he walked briskly towards the tuck shop. He walked through aisles of colorfully packed junk to the loo at the end of the aisle, ignoring the man behind the counter, eyeing him suspiciously.

Stepping in, Matt was grateful to have some space to himself as he lit his cigarette and took a drag at it disregarding the pungent putrid smell from the toilet finding its way to his olfactory.

Matt leaned against the sink and chose to confront the pain in his chest, the pain loving Mello was carving onto his heart. He knew he did….love Mello, that is. He didn't just want Mello anymore. He needed Mello. He felt as though his heart would slowly corrode if he didn't have Mello. The pain was proof. He couldn't imagine leaving without the blonde, couldn't think of leaving him behind in the mess. On the other hand, he was sure if he stayed he might just end up relapsing and going back to being high at all times, anything to cure him of the pain in his chest. But then even staying meant parting from Mello. They had four gigs left and then Mello would be on his way. He'd never see that sharp chin, soft blonde hair, icy delicious eyes ever again.

Matt felt something surging through his insides, corroding his esophagus, gushing into his mouth. His hands landed against the toilet seat. He hunched over and puked out bile. Panting heavily, forehead creasing with fatigue he made his choice. If we do this, we do it together or not at all. He thought. I'll have it no other way.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Mello leaned against the cold metal of the bus, staring intensely at the door of the tuck shop. He had watched Matt go in a while back and he was worried about the redhead. He had been thinking about their argument.

"Absurd?" The boy had laughed. "And staying in this freak show wouldn't be absurd?"

Mello kicked at the dirt, breathing in the toxic smell of petrol. He's right, isn't he? He thought, forehead creasing in fear of the answer. What was I thinking?

It was true that Mello was unsure and indecisive about what path to take from here on out but Matt was clearly offering a way out. And the best part of the deal was that Mello wouldn't have to go through with it alone. When he thought about it he was half sure the Greys would find him and this time he knew it'd be worse. He knew they'd probably permanently do away with him once they catch him. But at the same time another thought left its seed in his mind. _Would I like to die in pursuit of the life I want….or bend over and let life fuck me over?_

He ran a hand through his hair, gritting his teeth and wanting to pound his chest in for aching so much. _Would I not be a fool for letting this chance go?_ He thought. _If I stay, the what ifs would kill me. What if I could've made it? What if this was the only chance that was ever going to come my way?_ His thought wasn't entirely wrong. What were the odds of the situation he was in ever repeating itself? He could barely picture anything of the sort ever happening again. It was almost a miracle, god-sent. There was a time when he used to believe in nonsense like that. He let out a little chuckle at the thought ignoring the way his eyes were welling up. Are you here God? He thought. After letting life fuck me over and over again, are you finally giving me a chance to fuck life back?

And what kind of a fool would he be if he never took his only chance?

His legs moved without his consent. His hands automatically wiped his tears. He jogged towards the tuck shop, slammed open the door and jogged through the aisles, glancing left and right to find Matt.

Where the fuck are you, Mail Jeevas?

He reached the end of the aisles and just as he was about to turn around, the redhead stepped out of the loo, smelling heavily of cigarettes, a smell that, in Mello's head, had become associated with the tall broad shouldered fast fingered beauty. It had become the sweetest smell to Mello, a reminder of hope, of love and care…..and fear of the unknown and uncertainty.

"Matt." He stepped towards the boy. "Listen-"

"No you listen." Matt's voice was hushed but urgent. "I've been thinking about things and it's out of my own free will that I'm deciding that I want to leave-"

"Yes, I kn-"

"But I've read what you've written and I know your heart and I really l-like you." Matt internally cursed himself from saying the blasted word all over again. "I need to make you happy but you're so stubborn that you won't let me-"

"Yeah, but-"

"But I can't do this without you. And I absolutely must leave so I don't care. I'm kidnapping you.-"

"What? Wait a-" Mello cocked a brow in disbelief.

"I don't care what you've got to say. You're going with me-"

"Yes, I am going with you but lis-"

"No! I don't care you're going with…..hold on." Matt stopped himself as Mello's words registered themselves in his brain. His eyes widened. "Did you just-?"

"You're hopeless, I swear." Mello smiled softly at Matt, brows creased in worry of all that was to come and Matt felt his heart melt. He hugged Mello as hard as his weary arms would allow determined never to let go.

**Moral: The torment of precautions often exceeds the dangers to be avoided. It is sometimes better to abandon one's self to destiny. [Napoleon Bonaparte]**


	11. Chapter 11: The Great Escape

**Date: 7th May 2009.**

The knock on Mello's balcony door startled him, causing him to drop the towel he had been drying his hair with. He had much to be jumpy about but he realized his fear was in vain at the moment. He stomped towards his balcony and pushing the curtains out of his way, yanked the doors open. A tall redhead grinned and waved at him.

"Can you stop climbing into my balcony every fucking day?" Mello barked at him. There was only a day to go till the band performed on their final gig and both Matt and Mello were preparing to make their grand exit. And ever since they had decided to make their escape, they had made it a point to get rooms close to each other's so that they'd be able to sneak in and out without having to worry too much about the band, Larry or Jack.

Matt, however, had taken it to a whole new level. He'd climb from his balcony into Mello's despite Mello's constant disapproval. Fortunately, in this particular hotel their balconies were a lot closer than they usually were or Matt might have made an unintended escape from his life.

"C'mon!" Matt laughed. "It's fun!"

"You're having way too much fun, Mail Jeevas." Mello warned. "Now, are we ready for tomorrow?"

"I think so…" Matt sang, scratching his head.

"You think so?" Mello's eyes narrowed in disbelief. "You think so? Do you want to get slapped?"

"Okay okay! Yes, we're ready, sir." Matt laughed half hoping Mello would slap him anyway. It'd be the only physical contact he'd have with the blonde since that hug in the tuck shop. In all the ten days since they had decided they would run away together Matt had made absolutely no progress with Mello. Mello was so focused on work that he thought of little else and Matt thought of nothing but Mello.

He did touch me that day when I managed to install night vision in my goggles and he was trying them out. Matt thought back to the feel of Mello's cold slim fingers softly tracing the shape of his face. He hadn't been able to see Mello in the dark but his fingers had turned Matt's face hot. His thumb had momentarily brushed over Matt's lips making them part slightly in anticipation. He wished Mello wouldn't have stopped and turned the lights on. He wished Mello's thumb would've entered his mouth, that his hand would've traced his body, reaching down, where Matt needed him to grab.

It was fortunate that Matt's band jamming sessions and the research and preparation for his escape had taken most of his time, or he wouldn't have been able to keep his hands off of the slim blonde. He, however, often pictured what it would be like to grab a bent over Mello's pelvic bones and slam their bodies together. But much to his dismay, Mello showed no signs of even acknowledging Matt's confession on the bridge, the memory of which was vivid but no longer fresh. Whether he should be grateful for that or not, he wasn't sure.

Though his hands were behaving his eyes were doing their mischief. Every day he found his eyes searching for Mello and finding him was never enough for them. They had to follow him around, trace his contours, watch Mello's fingers when he thoughtfully placed them on his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He needed to watch Mello's eyes dart around, narrow as a smirk spread over his lips when he found something to help the plans progress. And speaking of lips, Matt thought it ought to be sinful just how much he looked at Mello's lips.

Matt was glad, however, that Mello's impression of him was getting better with time. The blonde had been specifically impressed with Matt when Matt had shown Mello his first homemade smoke bomb. Unfortunately, Mello had re-thought the plan and thought the smoke bombs would only be a contingency tool in case things didn't go exactly the way they were anticipating. And Matt had stopped after making about twenty of them.

Overall, after much consideration, several awkward morning wood scenarios and even more awkward conversations with Mello that ended abruptly when interrupted by someone from the band spotted them, Matt had come to the conclusion that he was going to have to wait till at least they were safely away from the rest to pursue the blonde's affections.

"Okay so," Mello's voice brought Matt out of his thoughts. "Think again. You're sure besides the people at the first after party, none of your fans or media people have seen you without your respirator on?"

"Well," Matt twirled his fingers on Mello's sheets trying to stop himself from thinking of a naked Mello wrapped in nothing but Matt's arms and those sheets. "Nope I've never met with many fans before. And, yeah, that party was it."

"You're sure?"

"I've never even gone for a single interview." Matt explained again monotonously. Mello seemed to need to hear this every day. "Never had a picture taken without the respirator…blah blah. I swear no one knows."

Mello looked up at Matt's hair. "You're like a walking talking traffic signal." He shook his head at Matt's red hair. "We need to do something about it. You're going to have to change the color of your hair to reduce risk."

"Understood." Matt nodded barely moved by the thought of having to lose his hair color which according to him was more of a chick magnet than it was a "traffic signal". "What color would you like?"

Mello cocked his brow at him. What color would I like? He thought. What am I? His master?

Mello didn't exactly hate the idea. He was an insecure person and in the last ten days that had become painfully obvious to him. He, after all, knew he felt things for Matt but he thought about it with such care for detail that it scared him off of thinking about it entirely. He'd think the most ridiculous things. What if it's just a phase for him? What if I don't really love him? What if he can't be trusted? What if he thinks lowly of me if I make a move? What if I come off as a whore? What if I come off as a needy bitch? Misery isn't attractive. What if he thinks I'm too clingy? What if he thinks I'm too forward? He hasn't said it again so maybe he doesn't feel it anymore. What if I make things awkward between us by bringing it up again? The thoughts were simply endless. Once burnt, most of Mello's fear came from experience. He recalled clearly just how dedicated he had been to Gareth and how could he be sure Matt wouldn't end up hurting him.

Mello had finally decided that the fact that Matt hadn't said anything about wanting him in the last ten days probably meant that Matt's feelings for him were waning or that he had reconsidered.

The thought of being Matt's master was hence a welcome one. If he could own Matt, possess him, he wouldn't have to worry about what he thought or about betrayal or about his fire dying out. It would be a perfect. Unfortunately, that level of possession was probably impossible. If only there was a definite formula to love, Mello's fears would be meaningless.

But if….if he could possess Matt….he would break every bone in the redhead's body, leave Matt marked with his teeth, let Matt inside him, taint him until he could belong to no one else.

"Chocolate…" Mello whispered brushing the thought aside.

"Chocolate?" Matt cocked a brow at him.

"Chocolate brown." Mello said, composing himself. "Dye your hair that color. Not yet though. Not until we've left."

"Right." Matt nodded. "And how're your explosives coming along?"

"All done and ready." Mello replied, glad the subject had been changed.

"Bags?"

"Check. Hid them where we decided. It shouldn't be a problem."

"Right." Matt nodded. "So how about the pills?"

"Oh yeah." Mello smacked four gloved fingers against his forehead before pulling open the drawer of his bedside table. "Here it is." He said pulling out a slim orange bottle full of little pills. "Remember the number we agreed on?" Matt nodded. "No more than that. I don't want you dying on me."

"Just make sure you get to me in time and it'll all be good." Matt said nervously taking the bottle from Mello's hand. This was the only part of the plan that scared him. But he, himself, had urged Mello to include the pills as a part of the plan.

He looked up to find Mello's eyes on him, looking at him through frowning brows and a stern mouth.

"Are you sure this is okay with you?" He asked. "We still might be able to come up with another plan."

"It's fine with me." Matt replied, rolling his eyes and smiling to hide just how unsure he was about his decision. But the decision had been made and Matt was determined to see the plan through. "Besides, what kind of a half-assed last minute shitty plan will we come up with now?"

Mello's eyes dropped to a watch latched to his wrist. It was simple with leather bands and a smooth round metallic dial. He let his finger trace a quarter of its circumference and nodded. "I'll get there in time."

"Jerry!" Jamie cried at his twin, running upstairs after him. "Wait up, will you?"

He knew he shouldn't have taken the stairs with Jerry. It was just Jerry's way of showing just how fast he could climb them in comparison to Jamie.

His twin stopped to look down at him and laughed.

"Seriously, Jamie," He laughed. "Learn to run, man."

"Fuck you." Jamie leaned against the railings, panting and sticking up his middle finger at his brother positioned at the top of the stairs.

"That's incest!" Jerry laughed. "You stay there and catch your breath. Bubye!" He sang shoving the door leading to the corridor open and making his way to his room. Lately he had been feeling rather agitated with the things around him. Most of his agitation had much to do with the argument between Matt and Larry from weeks ago. With time he felt things had just gotten worse. Matt, who was usually a loner, had gone further deep into him shell.

Jerry had always thought of Matt as a good friend. He wasn't as important to him as his twin was but he couldn't deny that he cared for the redhead. Most of the time, Matt didn't really need being taken care of. Jerry would usually just talk it out with the redhead and crack a few jokes and that's all it'd take to make him feel better.

This time, however, he felt like there was change in the air, like whatever was going on with Matt was not something Jerry could simply joke about to make him feel better. Hence, his agitation at not knowing Matt's thoughts was growing.

Upon discussing it with Jamie he realized that his twin took it a lot lighter than he did.

"Don't you think he's spending too much time with Mello?" Jerry had asked. "I mean I don't mind it. But given the way he stood up for Mello, it's a little suspicious."

His twin had laughed at his worry. "What's suspicious? It's obvious as hell!"

He had cocked his brows at Jamie, awaiting an explanation.

"He likes Mello, you idiot!" Jamie had cried.

Jerry had churned the thought over in his head and concluded that his twin was right. But it didn't help that Matt was more restless than usual. Jamie kept his mind off of all of it, told him that Matt might have his reasons for keeping things from them. Jerry knew Jamie was right but he couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling that they were closing in on an ice burg that might be the end of them.

He headed towards his room, feet falling soundlessly on the regularly shampooed carpets of the corridor outside their rooms. This hotel seemed a tad bit expensive in comparison to the others they had been staying in but then this happened to be the only place that was close to the venue of their final gig. This gig was supposed to be bigger than their previous ones. Jerry hadn't bothered with numbers but felt the anxiety in the air when he watched Larry discuss things with Joey and Mello. Apparently they had made huge arrangements for the final gig, something about hired security, paramedics and a bigger more isolated venue.

Jerry turned the handle to his room and flung the door open to find Matt standing on the other side staring wide eyed at him. They stood staring at each other in silence before Jerry spoke.

"Am I in the wrong room?" He glanced at the number nailed to the door.

"No! No!" Matt laughed shaking his hands animatedly. "No this is your room Jerry. I just popped by to look for my pick. I can't find it."

"Your pick?" Jerry's eyes narrowed. "Shouldn't it be with you?"

"Yeah!" Matt nodded. "Ideally, yes. But I think I gave it to Jamie and….or did I?" He laughed nervously making Jerry even more suspicious. "I can't really recall."

Matt glanced at the brunette eyeing him as though he were scanning Matt's mind. "Well!" He exclaimed, smiling as wide as he could at Jerry. "I guess it's not here." He walked towards the door and Jerry. "I better be on my way."

Jerry's hand fell against the door frame, arm blocking Matt's way. Matt turned to look at him, prepared to dodge any accusations.

"Matt," the brunette's voice held a grim tone. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." Matt nodded. He didn't want Jerry or Jamie to worry about him anymore. They belonged to a world different from Matt's and as grateful as he was for all their care, he knew there was no chance for him to remain in contact with the twins once he left with Mello…..unless he wanted unnecessary trouble for them.

Jerry hand dropped to his side.

"Why wouldn't I be? I know I've got the two of you with me." Matt grinned trying to bite back the urge to come clean. He knew it must've been confusing for them to watch Matt go through all the changes in his life without knowing what was going on behind the scenes. It was, however, for their own, and Matt and Mello's, good that Matt didn't want them involved any further.

"I hope you know that." Jerry replied.

"I do." Matt bumped Jerry's shoulder with a light fist and smiled at him. He stepped out of the room and saw Jamie walking towards the room. Matt turned to look from Jamie to Jerry and thought of all the things they had been through, all the years of sharing their anger at Maddie and Joey, the shared joints, trips, meaningless banters and talks of wooing girls.

"Hey, guys?" Matt called, head turning between the only two people that had truly been his friends. "Let's go get a few beers and hang out in the parking lot."

Jerry smiled at Matt, a satisfied, mildly proud smile that spread more across one of his cheek than it did the other.

"Tell me we're not inviting those two." Jamie whispered, pointing a thumb towards Joey and Maddie's room.

"Fuck no!" Matt laughed.

If this was to be his last night as their friend then he might as well thank them for all they had done. The truth was, as ready as Matt was to leave with Mello, start over and become a different person, this life, this lie was still his life, his experience, something that contributed to the person he was today and that was worth being grateful for. Mello was right, as always, Matt had so much to be thankful for.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

**Date: 8th May 2009.**

Mello tapped his boots persistently against the concrete floor. As if a little tapping would make the second needle of the watch he was staring at run faster. He hoped it would. The wait bothered him to manic levels but the needle took its own sweet time.

Tick….Tock….Tick….Tock….Tick….Tock….

It almost felt as though time itself was mocking at him, teasing him with its soft ticks that each seemed to take an age to pass.

Patience, Mello. All good things to those who wait. He reminded himself. But the tapping of his boots was contradicting his thoughts. He could feel the man standing next to him eyeing him suspiciously but it hardly mattered anymore. There was nothing Jack could do to stop what was about to happen. The wheels were turning and he had no idea what was about to hit him.

The crowd in the hall was huge, noisy and energetic and that was a comfort to Mello. The more the merrier. He thought placing one foot on the wall behind him in attempts to stop it from tapping away. The hall itself was a large square-ish room. Mello was leaning against the west wall of the room. The crowd was right in front of him, backs facing towards the north entrance, but their attentions were towards the south end of the room, towards the stage where the band was playing. The stage was surrounded by metal railings guarded by a good number of buff men that Mello had asked Ross to provide using the band's security as an excuse. In truth, however, they were there more for the crowd's security. On Mello's right was the passage leading back stage which comprised of five rooms for the band and their manager and ended with the back entrance where Mello had planted paramedics…. "just in case".

Mello had picked a rather remote town for the band's final gig. From Larry's perspective it helped keep the noise in but from Mello's perspective it helped his plan come to life. The town itself was a mere speck of dust surrounded on three sides by a thicket of woods. The town comprised of a rather expensive looking residential area, a few shop lots. A gas station, a hospital and a church stood at a distance from the rest of the town. Mello had spent the entire night, and the night before, going over little details and all he could do now was wait for the magic to happen and take his chance when he must.

The music dropped to a repeated riff and constant beats of Jerry's bass drum.

Maddie was speaking to the crowd, something about how grateful she was to be where she was, how much she loved them, etcetera, etcetera.

Mello rolled his eyes and dropped his eyes back to his watch.

Tick…tock…tick….tock.

It seemed to follow Jerry's drum. Mello looked at the stage, eyes falling on Matt. The redhead wasn't looking at him and Mello could only imagine what Matt must be going through in the moment.

Mello looked back at his watch, watching the seconds rise to their final moments before chaos engulfed the hall. He smiled watching the second needle reach twelve.

A loud deafening rumble erupted from the stage, followed by a crash and indecipherable twang of metal strings. Mello looked up. The crowd stared in shock at the caved in stage. It looked as though the ground had swallowed the band along with their instruments. The crowd screamed. Some ran for the doors behind them. Some scrambled towards the stage, pulling out their phones and trying to snap pictures of the rubble. The security tightened. The hired men pushed the crowd back onto the other side of the railing

And it begins. Mello thought following Jack, running towards the stage.

"Check the band!" Mello heard Larry yell at them from the passage leading backstage.

"Call the medics!" Mello yelled back.

Mello took the place of one of the hired men as the man ran towards the stage to check if the band was alright. Another left his station and followed the first man.

Mello's eyes darted towards the stage. Jerry was already up and jumping through the rubble towards Jamie, Mello guessed. His arm seemed to have scraped against wood leaving raw pink flesh showing through his shallow wound.

One of the men pulled Maddie out. She was barely scratched, but her eyes were wide with fear. The man carried her and walked through the rubble as she clung onto him with both arms.

The other man pulled at chunks of wood to dig someone else from the rubble just as the medics came, dragging a gurney behind them.

"We've got a limp one here." He heard one of the medics yell to the other in as much a formal tone as he could manage.

Mello watched as Larry's head spun in the direction of the medics.

"Who is it?" He yelled at the medic just as another medic shoved him backwards formally saying something in a hushed voice.

Sir, you're going to have to step back. Mello played the medic's dialogue in his head. Mello didn't need to hear who was limp. He knew. He looked back at his watch.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

It seemed to be running faster now.

"I need a little help here!" One of the security men called out, pulling out Joey's body. He was conscious but bleeding from his head. A couple of medics rushed to his aid.

Two other medics pulled another body out of the rubble and placed it on the patiently waiting gurney.

Mello looked at the body. Pale skin, torn jeans, goggles, respirator and red hair. Mello barely felt a thing anymore. Hurry up! He thought and looked back at his watch.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

The security was now pushing the frantic crowd towards the entrance behind them.

"I can't find a pulse." Mello heard one of the medics cry out to the other, holding Matt's wrist. "He doesn't have a pulse."

"We've got to take him to the hospital." The other pointed out the obvious as they carried Matt to the gurney.

Mello dashed towards the medics, glancing momentarily at the stage and Jamie being hugged by his brother.

Mello rushed towards the gurney, gripped at its cold steel and helped the medics push it through the passage. He avoided looking at Matt's limp body to make sure he didn't lose his cool. He glanced at his watch.

Ticktockticktock.

Time was running out.

Sunlight flooded in through the back doors where Mello could hear the siren of a lone ambulance.

Another deafening rumble shook Mello's ribs. This time it was louder and right behind them. He heard bricks collapse, screams erupt. The medics around him turned to look back but he kept running. They stopped to look at the fallen wall but Mello kept running along with a lone medic.

Just as planned. Mello thought.

They pushed the gurney to the patiently waiting open back of the ambulance.

"I'm going to check his pulse again." The medic explained.

"No." Mello said cocking a gun between the medic's eyes. "You're going to drive."

\-------------------------------------------

Jerry put his arm around his twin but his attention was turned towards his manager and the policemen that he was surrounded by. It had been half an hour since the two explosions had put a premature stop to their final gig. The first one had managed to break the stage and the second had broken a hole through the wall behind the stage.

Both the explosions were rather small. The police said something about the explosives being made out of everyday items found in any store.

It had only been a while after the second explosion that they had realized that the pre-arranged ambulance had headed off. Upon calling the hospital they had figured that the ambulance had never gotten to the hospital, Larry had told the twins.

"What do you mean it never got to the hospital?" Jerry had spat. "Where's Matt?"

"They don't know." Larry had said furiously rubbing his temples and grinding his teeth.

"What the fuck?!" Jerry had kicked at loose stones on the ground before he had stopped and stared wide-eyed with realization. "Where's Mello?"

"No one knows." Larry's mouth had curled with anger.

The police had called Larry to give a statement of the events that had taken place and Jerry had gone back to his twin who had been sitting at the curb, staring at a distance with a serious expression that Jerry wasn't used to seeing on him.

Jerry strained to listen to Larry explain the situation to the police.

"The medics say there was one other man pushing the gurney with them before the second explosion." The police explained. "They can't recall what he looked like, besides that he was blonde. Anyone you know?"

"No!" Jerry watched as Larry feigned ignorance. "I have no idea!"

"Did the boy," the police officer looked at his notepad. "Matt…Did he have any…enemies?"

"Not that I know of." Larry shrugged, brows creasing in worry. "But you know, they're boys and Matt might've gotten into some trouble. But he was a good kid."

Was? Jerry repeated. Is he already selling him as a dead kid?

"Alright sir." The officer shut his notepad. "We're treating this as a kidnapping. We'll probably hear from the kidnapper soon. We'll inform you if there's anything. Did he have any family or someone that needs to be informed?"

"We were his only family." Larry said gesturing towards the band.

"Alright. Thank you for your cooperation."

Jerry stood up as his manager walked up to them.

"Why didn't you tell them about Mello?" He asked in a hushed voice. "You know it was Mello."

"Don't mention that!" Larry exclaimed, voice hushed but urgent. "We're not supposed to be affiliated with drug dealers."

Jerry's nose wrinkled in anger.

"Look, Jerry." Larry's hands gripped at Jerry's arms. "I'll speak to Mello's boss. We'll find him. We'll figure this out."

"What're you saying, Larry?" Jerry implored. "They're probably the ones that did this."

Larry moved closer to the brunette and looked back to make sure no one besides the band could hear him.

"Jack told me, Mello has a knack for trying to run away." He informed the group that had gathered around him. "But they always manage to find him. They will find him and be done with him."

"And what about Matt?" Jamie stole the words from Jerry's mouth.

"He didn't have a pulse when the medics pulled him out." Larry explained. "He's probably dead."

Jerry pulled away from Larry. How can he be so calm about this? His mind yelled as his hands yanked at his hair. How can he say that like it doesn't matter? He barely felt Jamie's arms around him. "I can't believe it." He whispered into Jamie's ears, hot tears welled up in his eyes and stained his cheek. "It can't be."

Joey pulled Larry to his side away from the rest of the band. He hugged the man tightly.

"Dead?" He whispered. "Are you sure?"

"Probably not." Larry whispered back hugging the black haired man back. "Either way he's more use to us dead than alive."

Joey pulled away. "What do you mean?"

"Have you noticed the media coverage we're getting?" Larry asked. "They're all over the place. For all I know Mello has done us a favor. I spoke to his boss over the phone. He seems to think that they planned this together. It's not a surprise. Matt must've figured out….things….about his contract."

"Why do you think that?"

"According to Mello's boss, Mello had never gone this far before. And what good is a dead hostage? They could've staged this together."

"Then what happens when the police find them?"

"They won't." Larry said in a grave tone. "But Mello's boss will."

"And then?" Joey raised a brow at him.

"Then they'll take care of both of them."

\-----------------------------------------------

Matt felt his insides turn as barfed onto the crunchy brown leaves littered on the forest ground. He wanted to let it go and just fall into the abyss but Mello's voice urged him into pushing more of the poison out of his belly.

"C'mon Matt." He heard Mello urge him. Mello's hand was on his back and he was on all fours. "Barf it out."

"Mm gnna die." Matt slurred.

"Not yet." Mello said sternly, rubbing Matt's back. "Not when we've already lost them."

Matt knew Mello was right. He had risked his life for his escape and Mello's. He couldn't die just yet. The plan had, however, seemed a lot easier in theory and Matt hadn't anticipated feeling so tired.

He thought back to when they had planned their escape.

"We could just escape in the commotion of the explosion." Matt had said.

"This isn't downtown New York where you're an insignificant person who can disappear without trace, Matt." Mello had argued. "The band will be the center of attention at the venue. If I plant explosives, you'll all still be center of attention. We need to think of something better." Mello had paced inside his room while Matt sat with a laptop on Mello's bed. "I could kidnap you but then they'd expect me to ask for ransom. It'll all be weird. It'll come more into people's attention. Every random citizen will be looking for you. We need you to fade out."

"I should just die." Matt had joked.

Mello's eyes had widened and he had turned to gape at Matt. "You could die." He had said. "I could kill you. But it needs to be public. The explosion! The explosion could kill you."

"Mello, you're ignoring the fact that I'd be dead." Matt had cocked a brow. "We're supposed to escape, not die."

"Sleeping pills can lower your heart rate to dangerous levels, y'know," Mello had replied, seating himself next to Matt and smirking almost flirtatiously at him. "To undetectable levels."

"But the body."

"They'd consider you dead when someone kidnaps you while your pulse is that low and you haven't received medical treatment." Mello pointed out. "And that could be the reason why the kidnapper, I, never asked for ransom."

Matt had smiled at how pleased Mello had seemed with himself.

"So we plant two set of explosives and put sleeping pills inside your respirator." Mello had explained. "Take the pills before the first explosion. But then…" Mello had trailed off.

"Then what?"

"No, we probably shouldn't." Mello had straightened and rubbed his temples. "It's too risky."

"But it's the only way we could stop them from searching for me." Matt had implored. "Let's do this."

"Either way I think they'll come for us." Mello left the bed. "No the stakes seem too high."

"But this way Matt from The Bombs dies and I get to be just me." Matt had urged. "And it's easier when I'm considered dead. That way the general public isn't looking for me. To them, it'll just be a tragic end to a horrible crime."

"Are you willing to risk your life for this?" Mello had asked. "You know what could happen if I don't manage to revive you in time, right?"

"But you will get there in time, won't you?" Matt had smiled watching Mello take a deep breath and crease his brows.

"I will."

Mello's hand left him and he watched as Mello walked a distance to hollow tree. He watched as Mello pulled out a couple of bags.

"Look?" Mello called out at Matt. "They're where we left them. We're out, Matt. We're free…..well somewhat free." Mello smiled at him. "Now don't you give up on me just yet."

Matt tried smiling back but ended up hurling more.

"You know." He heard Mello whisper in his ear. "For a second back there, I thought you had died on me."

Mello wasn't lying. The fear that had gripped him when he had turned Matt to his side in the back of the ambulance had almost numbed him. Matt's breaths had been so faint he thought he might lose him for good. He could barely stand how guilty and wrong he had felt in that moment.

He was, however, in awe of Matt, in awe that he would go so far what he believed was right. It had made Mello erase all the conclusions he had ever drawn of Matt, of how he believed Matt was just a spoilt prick who had his life handed to him on a silver platter. It was true that he was such a person but the change was obvious, and his determination, his risk was proof.

Mello had asked the driver to pull the ambulance over and had knocked the driver out with the back of his gun. He had then proceeded to urging Matt to barf out the sleeping pills he had swallowed, going so far as to sticking his finger into Matt's mouth to trigger his gag reflexes.

Matt had been conscious soon after but had been slurry and disorientated. Mello had helped him walk out into the woods surrounding the area, to the place Mello had hidden their bags at.

"You know, Matt?" He tugged at Matt's stained chin to make the redhead look up at him. "You're not all that hopeless."

The redhead passed him a tired smile and Mello might have kissed him despite the slobber tugging at his lips, if it wasn't for his fear of love itself. He simply smiled at the redhead and wiped his chin clean. In Mello's eyes Matt had proven himself a strong person and a worthy companion. He could only hope that time wouldn't prove him wrong, that things would get better from here on out. They must. He thought. After everything he had gone through and the things he had just put Matt through, he was determined to make this worth Matt's while. And he realized that meant eventually coming clean of his fears. All good things to those who wait. He repeated his mantra.

He was aware that the risk they had taken would result in having to face the Greys' wrath but this felt different from all the other times he had ran away from them. And he knew he had Matt to thank for that. He wasn't alone anymore and he wished more than anything that no amount of stress or pressure would change Matt's determination. He recalled when he had told Matt that their plan would only induce the wrath of his bosses.

"I thought we had already decided that we weren't going to live in fear." Matt had replied instantly looking at Mello through unimpressed eyes.

"Yes, Matt." He had urged. "But it's only going to get worse. Are you sure you can handle it?"

"I can." Matt had gripped at both his arms. "And I need you to stop worrying about me. I know what I'm doing. I want this."

Mello had stared in awe of Matt's resolve and thought that if he ever wanted to lose all his sense to someone, it simply had to be someone like Matt. He had brushed the thought away immediately. Losing myself isn't an option. I need to stay in control. He had thought.

But now, after the theoretical plan had taken practical form, he could almost hear the sound of the walls he had built around him slowly breaking away.

**Moral: Whatever the mind of man can conceive, it can achieve.**


	12. Chapter 12: Cracks in the Wall

**Date: 8th May 2009.**

The night did little to hide Mello's weariness after a long day of planting explosives, nearly watching a friend die and making a daring escape. But night was still welcome cover, despite the moonlight, from the foes they had beyond the thicket of trees.

Matt watched the paleness of his companion, his love, in moonlight and could tell, due to the way his head would occasionally bob involuntarily, that Mello was close to collapsing into a good sleep. And yet, the blonde insisted on not letting sleep take him.

Matt sipped at his can of red bull in silence, watching his tired companion gather his belongings and throw them indiscriminately into his bag, cursing lightly in the cold night wind. If Matt wasn't wrong in his observation, he'd conclude that Mello was keeping himself busy to avoid sleep and to ignore the cold night air. The blond had spent all the time since their escape keeping himself busy by washing Matt's puke stained shirt and then dying Matt's hair to the best of his ability.

It had been refreshing, not only because water in his hair was welcome after the sweat and weariness of the gig but also because of the warm buzz Mello's fingers running through his hair left in his head. If it had been up to him, he would've never let Mello stop but unfortunately, it had been up to Mello.

And Mello had wanted to stop instantly after touching Matt's hair. The blonde had watched Matt, back arched backwards and leaning on his elbows, as he washed the dye from his hair. The broad shouldered boy had smiled at his fullest. Any more of it and he might have torn his cheeks. He had smiled as though he was advertising a shampoo and Mello had been half tempted to whack him on the head. But still, Mello couldn't deny the way Matt's pale skin had glistened with the lightest touch of water. The way his hair had submitted itself to Mello as he had combed the tangles out of it with his fingers. He had wanted to kiss that smile, plastered so peacefully on the boy's face, as though he didn't have a care in the world, as though he hadn't almost died a while back, as though they hadn't just made unwanted enemies, as though the world wasn't searching for them this very instant.

It is because of that blithe nature that Mello had decided to stop, troubled by how easy it was for Matt to put his worries behind. And how badly Mello wanted to do the same.

Now, however, in the dark of the night, Mello sat shivering in the cold, looking grudgingly at his bag wondering why there wasn't more to do. He could feel his tiredness grabbing ahold of him but he didn't dare to ask Matt for a can of red bull. The boy needed it more than Mello did. He wasn't allowed to sleep until Mello was sure the sleeping pills had left his system entirely. And Mello wasn't sure yet.

Mello felt his eye-lids droop heavily and for a second he wasn't aware of anything. Then his eyes jolted open. I can't sleep just yet. I need to be sure he doesn't fall asleep. He felt warm cotton covered arms slowly snake around his shoulders. A shiver ran down his spine as his body adjusted to the change in temperature.

Matt pulled Mello's shoulders into his chest.

"You should sleep." He whispered.

Mello leaned into his chest despite himself. The warmth of it against his cheek was so inviting that he felt every fiber of his body defy his will and move towards the broad shouldered boy ignoring the alarms in his head.

"I shouldn't." He murmured, barely aware of his lips movements.

"You can't go on much longer." Matt's voice was a lullaby, urging Mello further into comfort and the blackness. I shouldn't. He thought wriggling his arms around Matt's waist. I shouldn't.

The blackness took Mello and he lay, breathing lightly against Matt's chest. Matt glanced down at the blonde mess that was the love of his life and sighed lightly. If only…

He moved so that he had one leg on either side of Mello, to make sure he protected his love well against the cold. He then pulled out a hand-held game and got busy making yet another high score. He leaned his chin against the blonde head and felt soft hair tickle at his neck making him smile. He let his lips lightly kiss the blonde hair in response, hoping Mello was too far in dreamland to feel his lips.

Mello's eyes flickered open for a second in response to the shudder of electricity that had ran down his body. Did he kiss me? He wondered and the thought woke him up with a twang. His eyes were wide open now. Sleep nowhere to be found. He could hear the thumping of his heart against his ribs. Or was it Matt's heart that he could hear, thumping steadily against his ears, singing to him through Matt's chest?

Either way it was impossible to fall asleep again. And yet his body insisted on being wrapped by Matt's warm limbs, safe and comforted against the cold and everything else. Mello spent the remainder of the night listening to the ticks and twangs of Matt's hand-held game and the steady thumping of their hearts, conjoined to form a rather repetitive solemn song, a song that felt somewhat familiar to Mello, like something he had heard in a half-remembered dream, like a mother's lullaby, partially remembered but completely effective.

\----------------------------------------------------

Jerry glanced at his twin. The silence his brother had adopted since the explosions was irritating him, yet he couldn't get himself to break it, couldn't think of what to say to comfort him.

Did it scare him that much? Jerry thought feeling the cold metal of the chair he was seated in. The band, minus one, was at the airport, waiting for the flight that would take them back home. Larry hadn't followed them there. He had left on a separate flight to go see Mello's bosses. I hope they find the whore. I hope the spill his innards. After everything Matt did for him. How could he?

Jerry watched Jamie shuffle and leave the seat next to Jerry. His eyes followed his brother towards the lavatory. Now's a good chance. Jerry thought, leaving his seat to pursue his twin.

"Hey Jamie!" He called out, pushing the door to the loo open.

His twin turned to look at him and the calm of his face startled Jerry. It was as though Jamie was far away out of his reach. Jerry didn't like that. He had lost Matt. He didn't want to lose Jamie as well.

"Jamie, I know what happened to Matt is terrible." He carefully stepped towards his look alike. "But I need you to speak to me."

"I'm fine Jerry." Jamie smiled at him. "I understand it's weird, me being this way. But I'm fine."

"You've been this way since Larry told us that Matt's de-"

"He's not dead." His twin said calmly.

Jerry stared, brows furrowing in worry. Denial?

"Not dead?" Jerry reached for Jamie's hands. "I'm sorry Jamie but you need to come to terms with it. He's gone."

"Gone? Yes." Jamie's hands gripped Jerry's harder. "Dead? No."

Jamie pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket.

"I found this in my guitar case." He handed the paper to Jerry.

Jerry took the paper from Jamie's hands and carefully unfolded it. The handwriting in it was scrawny and hasty but the words weren't indecipherable.

> Hey you guys, I'm sorry about things having to be this way but I just wanted to say thank you. You guys have given me lots and I'm truly grateful but it's time I make my leave, move on. So you won't be seeing me around but know that I love both of you. (Mello likes you guys as well….please don't think ill of him. It's a little sad that you guys never got to know him well…He's a really cool guy.) Thank you for everything. Don't look for me and don't worry. I'm alright. I'm in good hands. I know this is confusing but I just want the two of you to know that I'm alright. Nope, not dead…despite what the people will tell you. Don't search for me though. I'll be alright. I just didn't want to leave the two of you without a word so I hope this is okay. Take care of each other. And hopefully someday I'll meet you guys again. Till then…goodbye.
> 
> Mattzilla :D

Jerry stared at the paper. Read the words over and over and then again memorizing them. His mind rushed back to the day before when he had found Matt in their room. Is this what he was doing in there? He wondered.

"He…what is this?..." Jerry stammered.

"He staged it with Mello." Jamie gave voice to his thoughts like he often did. "It wasn't Mello who ran away. Matt and Mello ran away together."

"But why?" Jerry looked at his brother hoping he had the answer to that as well.

"I don't know." He replied, shoulders slumping. "There's got to be something though. He had been agitated."

"He didn't like the direction the band was taking but that isn't a reason good enough to want to be considered dead, is it?"

"I can't be sure, Jerry." He said. "All I know is, Matt isn't dead and that Matt and Mello, they were trying to help each other somehow."

"He's not dead?"

"That's a comfort, isn't it?" Jamie said smiling at the paper between him and his twin.

"We've got to tell someone."

"No!" Jamie grabbed Jerry's hand before he could turn to leave.

Jerry gawked at his twin in disbelief.

"We can't tell, Jerry." Jamie pleaded. "If Matt planned this with Mello he wanted to be considered dead. He wants this." Jamie took Jerry's cold hands in his own. "He's never told on us. He didn't ruin the band's reputation, didn't bring to light what was happening behind the scenes. So why should we tell on him and ruin what he wants?" Jamie's expression grew stern. "He let no one but the two of us in on this. That proves that he trust us. What kind of friends would we be if break that trust? Matt must've had his reasons. We need to keep this a secret."

"But-"

"Jerry let him have the life he wants." Jamie scolded. "We have the life we want. Who are we to take this from him?"

"People are looking for Mello!" Jerry pleaded. "If they find them – "

"That worries me too. But we can't make finding them easier."

Jerry's brows creased but Jamie's words had silenced him.

"How do we know for sure that he's okay?"

"I don't know." Jamie hung his head. "But I'm willing to believe in this. I don't believe he's dead. Why would Mello kidnap a dying guy anyways?"

Silence fell between the brothers as Jerry registered the words, registered the knowledge. His mind wasn't set at ease but he agreed with Jamie. They couldn't tell. He could only hope that someday things would settle and they'd know the truth.

"In that case, we should get rid of this letter." He said.

"Yeah. We should. I kept it to show you. But now there's no use for it."

\---------------------------------------------------------

Date: 9th May 2009.

"Would you hurry the hell up?" Mello called out to the boy mercilessly dragging his bag behind him.

They had left the forest behind with the sun rising behind them and walked along the highway, away from the town they had so recently made a spectacle in. But now the sun was blazing at the zenith and the boys were sweating a river.

Mello had long pulled off his leather vest, feeling it get insanely uncomfortable in the heat. He had muttered something about never wanting to wear leather again, words he knew would hold little meaning the second he found some place with an air conditioner. Still, even after the hours of walking his legs were so sweaty in his pants that he wanted them off this instant.

He glanced back at his companion and saw a thicket of chocolate brown hair. Someday I'll get used to it. Mello thought. He had done a good job dying Matt's hair although Matt himself hadn't seen it yet.

The boy stopped and looked at the blonde through weary eyes behind orange goggles.

"How much further?" He whined.

"Just another few minutes Matt." Mello replied placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. As hard as it was for him, he knew it must be much more difficult for Matt, who was used to a life of comfort.

Matt glanced at the blonde's sweaty torso, glistening in the sun. He had spent so long walking behind Mello staring at his back, memorizing the way every muscle moved. After a while, however, he had become too tired to stare at Mello's back anymore. But now, with a view of his torso, Matt felt a strange smile spread across his features at the thought of the things he wanted to do to the blonde. Oh God! He thought. I'm a fucking pervert.

"I am so getting out of these pants, the second I get a chance." He heard Mello say and had to suppress a grin.

"I could help you with that." He muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing." He shook his head. "Just the heat, man."

"Yeah, I know." Mello said, stomping bitterly towards the diner they had spotted a while back and were currently staggering towards. "Let's just get inside and relax for a bit."

Tring.

The bell above the diner door rang as a shirtless angry blonde stepped in, carrying a heavy bag on one shoulder and pulling a striped shirt clad brunette one his other side.

The woman behind the counter looked at the duo through curious eyes. They were both good looking and young. The blonde was rather dangerous looking but she figured he couldn't be much trouble what with his twig-like small figure. Little did she know of the gun safely sitting in his bag. The brunette was a cute young thing as well, probably not as much trouble as the blonde. Nothing to worry of, she told herself. But she needed to be careful what with the weird incident in the town not too far from her diner.

Matt guessed the woman must've been pretty in her day. Now, however, she was as pretty as a sack of potatoes dipped in corn flour and food coloring. There was, however, no one else to be seen in the diner. Matt waved at the woman, smiling and rushing across the check board tiled floor towards a red leather seat beside a window, thankful to find a place to sit after, what seemed like, ages of continuous walking.

Mello rolled his eyes at his companion and walked right towards the woman.

"I hope you can get us some lunch." He said.

The woman cocked a brow and looked at the blonde with one sweaty arm resting on her recently shined counter. She hadn't expected him to be able to speak with such manners but then he had.

"Sure." She replied with sideward smile. "You boys make yourself comfortable. Jenny will take your order."

"Right. Thanks." Mello nodded. "Any chance I could use the washroom?"

"Right through that door." The woman said pointing towards a flimsy looking white plastic door on her right.

Mello heaved his bag in and stared at himself in the mirror.

"Oh wow." He said, looking unimpressed with his reflection. "I look like a strip of bacon….Maybe Matt should have me for lunch." Wait..what? Okay. Let's ignore I said that.

The comparison to a strip of bacon was an exaggeration of sorts. Mello was rather conscious about his looks and tended to exaggerate his flaws. All he had acquired was a little tan due to his walk in the sun. Most of the darkness on his skin was his sweat and dust from the highway that he washed away carefully once he had managed to pull his pants off. He poured generous amounts of water over his body and washed his hair in the sink. He could never picture the pampered Matt doing this. He was too used to hotels and service and hot showers and other things that Mello had learnt to live without.

I'm going to have to look for a place to stay soon, before Matt goes mad. He thought wiping his body dry with the paper towels sitting on a shelf above the sink.

The blonde pulled on black capris thanking the Gods for the comfort of jeans and his loose grey cotton sleeveless midriff, before stuffing his leather in his bag and leaving the washroom. He glanced at Matt who was now busy reading what looked like the menu with a scholar's concentration. Mello smiled slightly. The guy was rather cute and he couldn't deny that. He had quirks and weird things about him that made Mello smile once in a while. And even though his tendency to be an idiot was rather high, Mello could live with it.

Truth be told, Mello was painfully grateful for Matt's company. He couldn't imagine doing this on his own again. He recalled clearly all his previous attempts at running away. He'd be tired and broken and alone, crying his eyes out, jumping at the littlest sounds and being unable to look anyone in the eye. This new found confidence and freedom, he owed to the brunette sitting at the table.

Mello grabbed the day's paper from the newspaper stand and began scanning through the front page. Blah killed blah. Blah wages war against blah. Blah got arrested…Mello frowned and walked towards the table Matt had glued himself to.

"Check out that bottom news." He said taking a seat across from Matt. "We made it to the front page."

"Really?" Matt turned the paper towards himself. "We're awesome, man!" He looked up at the blonde with stars in his eyes and a white grin on his face and Mello couldn't help but smile back.

"Have some shame!" He scolded the boy playfully. "Someone died!"

"Did someone?" Matt asked aloud before reading the paper.

>   
> **Bombing in quite town. One death confirmed, police say.**
> 
> Explosions at a rock concert cause distress amongst civilians of a quiet town…..One of the band members was severely injured. Medics say they couldn't find the boy's pulse…..Bomber said to have kidnapped unconscious band member by high-jacking the ambulance….Ambulance found abandoned….No sign of kidnapper and kidnapped teenager…..Kidnapper hasn't contacted anyone for ransom….teenage guitarist Matt from The Bombs considered dead….The Bombs mourn the loss of a member. "We were his only family." Lead guitarist, Joey said. "We'll hold a three day event in commemoration of the prodigy." Band manager, Larry informed.

"Tutututut! Poor boy." Matt pushed the paper away. "Had his whole life ahead of him."

Mello smiled. "They'll find the body someday, I suppose."

"Yeah. All cut up and left in a body bag." Matt shook his head sorrowfully. "Poor lad!"

"Shut up Matt." Mello laughed pushing at Matt's hand.

"I know right. I got carried away there." Matt smiled noticing how fresh Mello looked after his little trip to the washroom. His skin was a soft and clean and Matt couldn't decide what he liked better sweaty greasy Mello or soft clean fresh Mello. All of the above. He decided. "Still I'm amazed by how fast Larry and Joey are moving on."

"It's marketing strategy." Mello explained. "What we did created a hype. More people will be paying attention to the band for the time being. Some people might find the tragedy sort of cool and automatically think cool things about the band. Larry and Joey are just making use of the hype. And that's a commendable marketing strategy."

"A little inhumane if you ask me." Matt cocked a brow.

"Well what isn't, these days?" Mello asked. "What we did wasn't the most humane thing in the world either."

"It was necessary."

"I suppose you could say that." Mello fidgeted with his thumbs glancing at a young waitress walking towards their table.

"Hi!" She said in a tone dripping with sugar and Mello had to stop himself from banging his head against the table when he noticed how the "hi" was aimed purely at Matt and Mello was entirely ignored even before the conversation began.

The waitress bit her lip. Don't think about how cute he is. Don't do it! She urged herself but it was rather difficult. Even covered in sweat, the brunette was a beautiful sight. He pulled down his goggles and smiled at her and she could swear she had melted and become one with the floor. Dark blue eyes scanned her face, looked her right in the eye waiting for her to say something. Say something!

"I'm Jenny!" She waved and giggled.

"Hey Jenny!" Matt grinned at her making the girl giggle all the more

Shoot me. Mello thought rubbing his temples. Shoot me, now.

"So…hi!" The girl placed a little notepad on the edge of the table and leaned on the table with her arms squeezing her breasts. "Can I get you something?" Mello's eyes immediately darted towards Matt and he caught the boy glance at the girl's breast before placing an order.

Mello frowned. All sane guys would look, Mello. He found his mind arguing with his emotions. He said he loved me! His emotions argued back. Doesn't mean he isn't going to look elsewhere. But…I want…. Mello felt himself slump a little, forehead creasing. I want him all to myself…You haven't done anything to tell him that.

Mello shut his eyes tightly and rubbed his temples harder. It was true he hadn't given Matt a single signal. Why should Matt hook himself to Mello when he hadn't given him a single sign? You know, someday he's going to lose interest if you don't do something. Mello's heart paced at the urgency. He looked back at the boy sitting across from him. Wait for me, Matt. He pleaded silently but he knew that was no good. He had been fighting his fears too long and he frankly didn't know how to get rid of them. Time and tide wait for no man.

He felt his heart sinking. He pictured himself years from now. He pictured that they had survived their ordeal, were finally free of the Greys and the rest of the world, hanging out at some café. It was him and Matt and some other girl whose face could've been anyone's, Jenny's or some other girl Matt was sure to meet someday. He pictured himself sulk, knowing that the boy he had his eyes on, could've been his, if it hadn't been for his fears. Can I let this happen? He asked himself. Am I going to be okay with it when it happens? The answer carved itself in red painful block letters at the back of his mind.

No.

Matt rubbed his thumb against his lower lip to stop himself from biting it as Jenny wrote down his order, squeezing her breasts between his arms. It wasn't that he found Jenny magnificently attractive. It was just hard not to notice when a girl did that. He'd rather the boy sitting across from him, slowly slipped one of his legs between Matt's own than hook up with the waitress of some random diner.

"How about coffee?" Jenny asked looking at Matt through curious eyes.

"Sure." Mello answered before Matt could. "But don't squeeze out the milk."

"Excuse me?" The girl straightened a little and frowned at Mello.

"What he meant was that he takes black coffee." Matt laughed. "Right, M-Mickey?"

Mello cocked a brow. Mickey? MICKEY?

"Yes," Mello smiled at Matt and then the waitress. "That's exactly what I meant." He let his hand reach for Matt's, laying idly on the table. "He knows me so well." He stroked Matt's knuckles gently watching Matt swallow a lump with some difficulty and straighten his back.

Matt's eyes were fixed on their hands. He watched Mello's slim fingers, with neatly cut nails stroke the spaces between his knuckles gently. Heat swallowed his back and he felt himself sweat despite the ample air-conditioning in the diner.

"Y-you guys seem like good friends." Jenny remarked glancing at the boys' hands.

"The very best." He said smiling. "Right, Donald?"

Matt's eyes widened. "Y-yeah." He grinned.

"So, yes." Mello smiled broadly at the waitress, feeling proud and accomplished. "Two cups of black coffee, please."

"Right." She said, scribbling in her notepad. This time she didn't bother to place her notepad on the table and flaunt jugs that Mello had no intention of ever having on himself.

Mello pulled his hand off of Matt's as the waitress left. He resumed scanning through the newspaper ignoring Matt's eyes on him, eyes he was very aware of. Was this considered a signal? He asked himself. If so….Is it alright to let it show?

Matt felt a smile slowly creep onto his features. Mello had just held his hand. Not that it was a big deal, but the thought that he might've done it out of jealousy was what made his heart do backflips in his chest.

"uh.." He tried to capture the blonde's attention. But the blonde simply flipped a page and resumed reading. "Were you-"

"Don't flatter yourself." The blonde barked barely looking up at him. "She was annoying me."

Matt smiled at the way Mello's cheeks were changing colors. He could've sworn he had died and gone to heaven. Eleven days after his confession, his love had finally shown some sign of cracking the wall he had built around him. He didn't know if he should be proud of himself or Mello but a part of him simply wanted to giggle like a school girl, pace around the room and just melt into the floor. Still, he kept his calm. I love him. He thought. I love him so fucking much. His heart ached with wanting to be near to the only person that had his heart, feel his skin again.

"Actually, I wasn't going to ask about that." He lied, folding his arms and placing them on the table. "I was asking about the whole Donald thing."

Mello looked up at him and frowned. Liar! He thought.

"You called me Mickey." He argued.

Matt laughed. "A Disney reference was the last thing I expected from a drug dealer."

"Ex-dealer." Mello corrected.

"Yeah." Matt felt his smile spread further. He let his head fall on his arms and watched Mello read the paper. Why in the world is he so beautiful? He wondered thinking of all the things he wanted to do once Mello had plucked the courage to admit that he did in fact like Matt. He grinned. It was enough to think that the blonde had some feelings for him.

Mello avoided looking at the boy watching him read. His heart was thumping in his chest. Why is he staring? He thought, running his hands through his hair to make sure it wasn't sticking out in weird places. Annoyed, he pulled out a hair tie and tied his hair back and stared out of the window next to him to avoid Matt's eyes.

"You know, Mello?" Matt's voice made him turn to find Matt fidgeting with the corner of the newspaper. "I've never been in love before."

Mello felt his forehead crease. He turned his head back to stare out of the window.

"Well, you should know it's a bitch."

"I've heard." Matt replied. "But I'm still happy."

"Wait till the one you love hurts you. You won't be happy then."

Matt frowned. "I highly doubt he'd hurt me."

"What makes you say that?" Mello glared at the curb. "How do you know that?"

"I don't know it." Matt shrugged, letting his back fall against the leather seat. "I just trust him."

Mello registered the words slowly, finding that each syllable was painful. "Love just hurts, Matt."

"I know. But from what little I've heard of love, it's not safe. It's more like handing your heart to someone and telling them to hold on to it."

"That's the painful part."

"I'd still do it, nonetheless." Matt shook his head. "I mean….living in the safe zone isn't living. And if I love someone, I'd want to be madly in love or not at all. I want that fire."

"Then you're an idiot."

"Well," Matt laughed running a hand through his dirty hair. "They say "fool in love" for a reason. I don't think it's supposed to be smart."

Mello turned to meet Matt's eye. "What would you do if he hurts you?" He asked aware that the discussion was about him.

"That's easy." He answered without hesitation. "I'd ask him why. He might have a very good reason."

Matt watched a small tired smile spread over Mello's face.

"That's exactly what I did." He said dropping his gaze at some random article in the paper. "I thought maybe I had done something to anger him. So I asked. He said he liked watching me get hurt."

Matt placed a hand on Mello's. "It's gone now, Mello." He said sternly. "It's over. You've left it behind. Don't you dare let it get you down again."

"No." Mello shook his head and smiled at his companion. "I'm alright actually. Ever since we left, I feel good Matt, despite being wanted and all." He gripped at Matt's thumb. "Thank you, Matt."

"Gah! Please! Don't be that way!" Matt's cheeks went red.

"No?" Mello questioned through a smile. "Too sappy for you?"

"You're just embarrassing me." Matt lightly slapped both his cheeks. He was, however, glad that Mello had spoken about the way he felt, even if just a little bit. It was enough that Matt didn't have to solve a puzzle or hack into his computer to read his mind again.

Mello looked out the window again as Jenny brought their coffee and Matt's lunch. He sipped his coffee in silence for a while. Is it okay? He wondered. Is it alright that he knows what I'm thinking? Is it okay to tell him a little bit? He already knows too much about me. So, is it okay to let him know more? They were questions he didn't have answers to.

"…from what little I've heard of love, it's not safe. It's more like handing your heart to someone and telling them to hold on to it." He had said.

Maybe, just maybe, Mello thought. Maybe he can teach me to love again.

The thought warmed his heart. What Matt had said was something he used to know, something he had believed in once. Now it felt like his fear had a bigger role in what he did. But he was determined to change that, for the sake of changing that picture he had painted of himself and Matt years from now. He shut his eyes and pictured another scene. The same café, the same number of years later, he pictured Matt next to him nuzzling against his neck, making him smile uncontrollably, a place where love couldn't fade. I want this. He thought. Smiling, he let his eyes flicker open.

"Matt," He said. "We should steal a car."

**Moral: "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." –Eleanor Roosevelt.**


	13. To Hope and To Love

**Date: 9** **th** **May 2009.**

"What're we doing here again?" Matt whispered, leaning his back against the shaky metal railing surrounding a lonely rent-a-car showroom, wondering why Mello had decided to pick a rent-a-car instead of the several houses they had passed by on the way here.

In general, Mello had seemed a little confused about how to steal a car, a little afraid even, which baffled Matt since it was after all Mello's idea. Mello had spent quite a while planning it at the diner.

"We're going to need keys." He had said, rubbing his temples. "How the fuck are we going to get keys?"

"You're telling me you're a felon that doesn't know how to pick locks?" Matt had given Mello an unimpressed stare from over his cup of coffee.

"I know how to pick locks, Matt." The blonde had rolled his eyes. "That's elementary stuff. Getting into the car isn't a problem. I was talking about the ignition. How do you plan on getting the car started?"

"Easy!" Matt had exclaimed slamming his palms against the table. "We hot-wire the car."

"I would but quite frankly I don't know how." Mello had admitted.

"Leave it to me." Matt had said, elegantly waving a controlled hand in the air, with the elegance of a medieval knight. He had gone on to explain how it worked; pointing out the things they'd need to turn their plan into reality.

And now here they were, peering through the crisscrossed wires of the metal railing surrounding a car rental place, separating them from a sea of cars. Matt's bag weighed down on his shoulder painfully and he could barely wait for when he could put the thing down again. Yet, he clutched a hammer in his hand, determined to do what was necessary for their survival and safety.

"We're stealing a car." His companion replied, looking through the crisscrossed wires of the metal railing around the car rental place. He snapped a square off his chocolate and glared at the store-owner on the far end of the sea of cars. He was seated in a glass cubicle, talking to a customer.  _Now would be the best time._ Mello thought.

"I mean, why did we come to this place?" Matt casually lit a cigarette and took a deep breath, thanking any and all Gods known to man that the store they had stopped at for the hammer and the screwdriver that weighed down his pocket, also sold cigarettes. "I mean there was that residential area that we passed by. We could've easily stolen a car from one of the houses."

"I didn't want to steal from people." His companion replied.

"You're still stealing from people, Mello."

"WE are stealing." Mello glared at the brunette. "Besides we're stealing from a company right now. It's not a big deal."

Matt cocked a brow and smirked at Mello's flawed logic. "And why is it not a big deal?" He shook his head with each word like a kindergarten teacher would right before she disproves you.

"Because the residents' cars are…..y'know hard earned and stuff." Mello frowned sensing the disapproval he was about to face. "And company cars…are…well-"

"So you're saying that man over there," Matt pointed at the store owner, still deep in conversation. "You're saying he didn't earn these cars, didn't spend his own money on them. What he smuggled them or something?"

"No." Mello took a deep breath to keep his calm. "I mean – I don't know if he smuggled them. I just feel we'll be doing less damage if we steal from a company than a resident."

"So we're doing harm either way?" Matt exhaled a tuft of smoke and grinned at his companion.

"Yes! Fine! Jeez!" Mello kicked at Matt's boot. "Can we just get on with it now?"

Matt laughed. "So you admit that we're stealing from a company so you can feel better about stealing?"

Mello shot Matt a sideways glance and the brunette raised two hands in surrender, suppressing a smile at Mello's absurdity.

"I think we should steal that one." Matt pointed at a black Nissan.

"Why that one?" Mello asked. It didn't look remarkably special. It just looked like the kind of car a small class family would own if they're tight on money.

"I'm guessing you know little about cars. I'm going to ignore your absurdity for time reasons." Matt said earning him yet another unimpressed sideways glance. "We need a rather old car. Most new cars cannot be hot-wired."

"Right." Mello muttered frowning at the cars. For whatever reason, he saw no real difference between all of them besides their shapes. He shrugged. "I knew that."

"No you didn't." Matt whispered in his ear and Mello had to smile despite his displeasure. "Face it, Mello. You need me here." Matt sang in his ear, through a proud smirk.

"Yeah whatever." Mello brushed him aside, clutching the flimsy crisscrossed wires of the metal fence. "Let's finish this."

Mello climbed the network of metal wires making sure the store owner couldn't see him and Matt, putting out his cigarette, followed after trying not to stare at Mello's behind but at the same time finding it harder not to do so.

They dropped to the other side.

"Okay." Mello began. "Now we want that car right?" Mello pointed at the black Nissan a few rows from them and conveniently close to a flimsy gate that they could easily break through once they had started the car. "Right?" He repeated upon receiving no response from the brunette. He glanced sideways again, ready to wring his neck when he noticed Matt's eyes on his pants.

"What is it?" He asked snapping his fingers in front of Matt's face.

"What? Nothing!" The brunette panicked.

"Something on my pants?" Mello asked trying to crane to see what Matt had been looking at.

"Nope." Matt tried covering his lapse.

"C'mon! Tell me!"

"Well, actually," Matt said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Umm..There might be..uh..a little something."

"You're lying." Mello's brows creased and yet he couldn't manage to hide the smirk that spread over his face as the thought sunk in. "You were looking at my butt."

"No, I wasn't!" Matt clearly sounded more offended by that then he should've been.

Mello rolled his eyes, letting the idea wash over him and for whatever reason he wasn't the slightest bit offended.  _Should I be? Better than looking at Jenny's cleavage, though._  He thought strutting away, painfully aware of the way he walked.  _Did I always sway my hips like this?_ He glanced over his shoulders and smirked finding the boy's cocked eyebrow and almost vacant stare. "Well, don't keep gawking."

"Right." Matt shook the color out of his cheeks and followed after the blonde.

The two crouched beside a car.

"Follow me." He glanced back at Matt with mischief rich in his cold blue eyes. A slight smile danced on his face and Matt was reminded of little boys at his orphanage that used to steal food from the kitchens. "And don't stare at my butt." The blonde continued.

"It's a little difficult." He heard Matt mutter. "With it being right in my face and all."

Mello smiled and chose not to reply. Instead, he slowly made his way towards the Nissan, eyes set on it like a cat would set its eyes on prey, glancing back at the glass cubicle every now and then to make sure they weren't being watched.

Once next to the car, Matt watched while Mello pulled out a pair of bobby pins and got busy with the door. He kept his eyes on the cubicle trying not to think of how his life had come to this. It was amazing to him actually. Just yesterday he wouldn't have had to steal a car. He could've just borrowed Jamie's or gotten his own, if he had the kind of money. But between buying hordes of consoles, games and drugs and the usual amount that got cut from his earnings to pay Larry back, he never really had enough. He'd always wanted a car though. But he had never thought this would be the way he'd be getting his first car.

It wasn't entirely bad though. He found it rather exciting just like he had at the orphanage, stealing food from the kitchens with the other boys.

"There we go." He heard the blonde mutter. "Hurry up!"

Matt scurried towards the passenger seat and took a seat next to Mello.

The doors slammed shut.

"Hurry the fuck up, Matt." The blonde warned. "Before he sees us."

"He's going to see us eventually."

"I am very aware of that." Mello pointed out, pulling on a pair of leather gloves and retrieving a gun from his bag.

"You're kidding me right?" Matt looked questioningly at the gun. He didn't want things to come to that.

"I won't need it if you hurry." Mello said clicking off the safety and loading the gun. He threw a pair of elbow length leather gloves at Matt. "Don't die on me." He warned.

"I won't." Matt muttered, pulling them on. He reached between Mello's legs, making Mello slightly uncomfortable, and felt his way around the steering. He pulled out the screw driver and moved as fast as he could manage.

"Matt." Mello sang, eyes fixed on the cubicle. "I'm going to need you to move faster."

Matt remained silent and edged the ignition cylinder open. He reached further down, his head now tucked uncomfortably between Mello's knees, and stared at the wires.  _Red is battery. Brown is starter._ He told himself and cut the red wires and stripped their ends to reveal the hidden copper wires.

As the electrical systems came to life, Mello felt himself sweat. It had little to do with the fact that the store owner might see them and more to with the picture he had instantaneously and unwillingly painted in his head.

He had pictured a random passer-by looking at the car through the windshield and finding a slim blonde in the driver's seat. He pictured the by-stander's reaction when a brunette's head pulls up from where the blonde's crotch ought to be and he figures there are actually two people.  _This is going to look all wrong._ Mello thought and couldn't understand why it mattered.  _I'm stealing a car!_  He reminded himself.  _Much worse if someone figures that out than if they think I'm getting a blow job._

Still the thought, made him uncomfortable and he felt his legs sweat a little. He carefully edged his crotch away from Matt's head, not like there was much room and he didn't want Matt making a mistake just because he was having weird fantasies in broad daylight at the oddest moment.

"How do you know this again?" He asked the brunette, trying to ignore his thoughts.

"Jamie loses his keys all the time." A muffled answer rose from between his knees.

The car came to life and Matt, thankfully pulled his head from between Mello's knees and proceeded to tape the naked ends of the wires.

"We did it!" The boy exclaimed unaware of Mello's recent troubles.

Mello wiped sweat off his brow and put the gear in reverse.

"Get ready." He said and Matt swallowed a lump and the seat belt over his chest.

The car moved in reverse at an insane speed and Matt had to wonder if Mello was Batman.

Matt glanced at the cubicle. The store owner was stepping out shouting something in their direction.

"Mell, he saw us!" Matt exclaimed as the car turned to face the gate.

The car sped towards the metal gate and Matt was half sure they weren't going to make it. His eyes grew wide with either excitement or fear, he wasn't sure. Mello sped the car right into the gate and with a loud thud and clashing sound of metal, the gate broke. Matt laughed and glanced back grinning at a moment the exhilarating moment of freedom

"We fucking did it!" He cheered, glancing back at the owner. "Oh fuck! Mell!"

"What?" Mello yelled as he turned the car onto the road.

"The guy has a gun!"

Mello's foot instantaneously slammed against the accelerator and he glanced at the rear-view mirror.  _A shot gun?_  He thought.  _Is this man insane?_

He heard the gun fire and awaited an impact that never came.

Mello grinned and ran a wet tongue over his lower lip. Matt was cheering next to him. Trees whizzed past them and Mello felt strangely in control of himself, of his life, of everything. For a while, he was in fact the king of the world. He pushed the pedal down harder. Adrenaline rushed through his veins. He barely felt Matt slap his shoulder.

_Catch me if you can, motherfuckers!_

He let the road take him, wherever it would.

* * *

The room was dark, the curtains drawn, the only light being the lamp on the heavy rosewood desk, looking down and shining upon bony but strong fingers.

Gareth walked towards his father's desk, ignoring the other men in the room. Rage coursed through his veins, shining in his eyes.

"You called for me." He said sternly indicating that he wasn't in the mood for a lecture. But when had his father ever paid any heed to what he wanted?

"Have you heard?" The man spoke in a hushed voice, but Gareth could sense the snake wrapping itself around his neck. His father tossed a newspaper in his direction. It was folded so that a specific news would be on the forefront.

Gareth merely glanced at it. He didn't need to read it.

"I have." He replied.

"This, as you know, is partially your fault."

"My fault?" His palms slammed against the cold wood as he yelled at the older man.

"Yes, your fault." His father repeated. "I told you the first few times he tried to run away, do away with him but you wanted to continue playing with him."

"Father, Mello, isn't so easily swayed." He retorted.

"I know that." His father waved a hand between them. "Which is why I told you to finish him. Now look the damage you've done."

Gareth swallowed his anger. Mello had been his very first assignment. The first time his father had entrusted him with the job of turning a helpless orphan into a pot of gold. He recalled every minute spent in Mello's company with excruciating detail, from the night they had met to the time Mello had left him gasping for air in the VIP lounge of a club.

Initially he had thought Mello would warm up to the idea, turn into one of the many orphans they had raised to do his father's bidding. But he had been wrong. Mello's conviction to run away had seemed to only get strong with time.

It was true that his father had, after the first few times of Mello's untimely poorly thought out departures asked him to kill Mello.

"The boy is good." His father had said, seated behind the same desk. "But he's no use to us. He causes trouble, tries to run away every now and then. End this chapter once and for all."

But Gareth hadn't wanted to. He liked watching Mello, as sick as anyone else would believe that might be. It was his freedom to do as he pleased with his subjects and Mello was his subject. He enjoyed every minute of watching the blonde. He was remarkably beautiful and Gareth had a hatred for that.

Even as a child, he couldn't help but break anything he found beautiful, whether it be his mother's precious china or a pretty school girl's favorite doll. He wanted to watch them break. Their beauty showed best when they were mangled and broken.

But Mello…..Mello had been exceptionally beautiful when broken. He had watched, the first time Mello had been sold, through a one way mirror, thanking his father for its existence. The man Mello was with had yanked his hands behind his back, kissed him roughly on the mouth. The boy's face had been red, soaked with tears, whimpering uncontrollably. The man had let go off of him for second when Mello had made his move.

Gareth had watched as Mello kicked the man's shin and pulled away from him, dragging his naked body on the floor, reaching for the doorknob to his freedom.

The man, in his anger, had grabbed the blonde's hair, hair Gareth could remember caressing. The rest had been too beautiful for words, but it sufficed to say, that Mello had captured his attention in that moment. He had wanted to see it over and over.

He wanted to see the crying blonde, kicking at the men that ravaged him, shrieking in pain as they entered him. It had been ecstasy. It was his disappointment when his father had decided that Mello be put to other use, in attempts to calm the blonde and hope that he wouldn't try to run away.

It hadn't worked. Despite his talents in the field of assassination and drug dealing, Mello had hated it all and them all for what they made him do. The blonde was scarred and broken but full of conviction, nonetheless. Gareth felt it best to return him to prostitution but his father disagreed. So every now and then Gareth tried to put Mello up to it indirectly.

It had, in fact, been a joke between Gareth and some of Grey's men, a joke Grey himself wasn't aware of. They'd all aim at hurting the blonde and then have a good laugh about the tricks they used or Mello's reactions or simply anything. It wasn't their fault, it was Mello's. Who told him to take so bloody long to adjust to them? Despite being just a tool in the gameplay, Mello never bent a knee, no matter how hurt he got, he stuck out like a sore thumb, pounced like a hissing cat, every chance he got. If he would only learn his place under their heels they might learn to stop someday. But, no, Mello wasn't that easy.

He had, in his attempts to continue his jokes, told Jack that it was alright to sell Mello to any willing band members when he went on tour with The Bombs. And now, Mello had disappointed him again, agitated him, by running away.  _And with someone else that too?_

"Father," Gareth tried reasoning. "I didn't intend for this to happen."

"Was it you?" His father asked. "Did you give Jack permission to sell Mello?"

Gareth nodded.

His father's bony knuckles met the wooden table with a loud thud. He stood towering over his son.

"I told you, it agitates him!" He yelled. "He hadn't tried anything for a good number of years and look now the damage you've done!"

"What damage?" Gareth yelled back. "It's just a runaway whore!"

"Just a runaway whore?" His father sneered. "What good are we as the leading family in the underworld if we cannot tame one, single, WHORE!" A hand struck Gareth's cheek leaving it red and hot.

"Everyone is talking about it, Gareth." His father informed him. "They're all talking about how a simple orphan couldn't be tamed after spending so many years with us."

"With all due respect, Mello isn't simple." Gareth retorted realizing his mistake immediately.

His father's eyes narrowed. "Isn't simple?" He sneered. "Do you know what admitting that means?"

Gareth hung his head and ground his teeth.  _Failure. It means failure._

"The gentleman behind you is the manager of the band Mello was touring with." His father gestured. "Work with him to figure out this Matt character's whereabouts, finding him is the key to finding Mello."

Gareth turned only to feel hands yank at his wrist, turning him to face his father again.

"This time, Gareth," Grey warned. "Kill him and kill him good. And kill the bitch he's with as well."

* * *

**Date: 10** **th** **May 2009.**

Mello pulled over in a remote parking lot. From, what he could tell, they were probably close to a famous tourist spot, judging from the number of cars parked around their Nissan. He could spot a hotel not very far, but decided not to go that way.  _Famous tourist spot means expensive hotel._  The night had fallen around them and blackened the highway and now, it was an insanely late hour. Nothing illuminated the streets except the carefully and evenly distanced light poles. The parking lot was silent and still. A dozen cars stood, patiently, awaiting their owners.

Stepping out of the car, the blonde smiled and stretched his limbs, exhausted from having them cramped in the car for so long. He turned to find Matt seated on the hood of the car, smiling at him.

"What're you looking at, weirdo?" He asked cocking a brow and smirking at the brunette lighting a cigarette.

"Probably the most beautiful person to walk on the planet." Matt smiled back.

Mello pushed a finger in his mouth pretending to gag himself and relished the sound of Matt's laughter. It was a childish cackle, free and probably even ridiculous in some places.

"Are you tired?" Matt asked.

"A little." He replied. "We could take a break and be on our way once the sun rises."

Matt nodded, letting smoke escape from between his lips. Mello watched it rise slowly, soft grey against the night's dark black.

"I wonder where we are." He heard the brunette say.

"Beats me." He replied leaning against the car next to Matt, carefully keeping his distance. "But we better find out soon. We should know where we're going." A part of him, didn't want to be too far from the brunette and despised even the four inch gap between them. While another part of him was too afraid of getting close. It was less of the idea of trusting Matt, more the fact that he might break the dream he was enveloped in. Things look best from a distance. It's only when you get too close that you notice all the flaws. And Mello didn't want to know the flaws, face the problems that might arise if he touched Matt again, if he let himself get carried away.

And yet, it was proving to be painfully difficult not to take a leap of faith. Matt never missed a chance to show him that he cared. He seemed to try with all his might to reach out and yet Mello felt afraid before moving a muscle.

A hand fell between the two and Mello glanced at it from the corner of his eye. Matt's hand, subtracted two inches of space between them. Mello swallowed hard and cleared his throat.

"Do you want to stay at the hotel?" He asked despite knowing they didn't have enough cash to live in a fancy place.

"Nope." Matt replied. Another tuft of loose smoke rose from his lips. Mello watched, from the corner of his lowered gaze, the way Matt's lips moved as he let the smoke escape. "We could just sleep in the car."

"Not for too long though." Mello said, not taking his eyes off Matt's lips. The boy was pale like a ghost, just a dash of the lightest beige mixed with a ghostly white that shone pale gold in the streetlight. His lips were simply a darker shade of it, turning to a fleshy color the deeper the skin folded into his mouth. He had a habit of licking his lips after every two or three drags of his cigarette. His lips would purse inwards lightly and come back out glistening with the little moisture he had allowed them.

As Mello pictured wetting them more for him, a giggling couple went past them, unaware of the two, too busy in each other's company. Matt's eye followed the two.  _Teenagers…probably not more than sixteen years old._  He thought, profiling them in his head. The girl was a short brunette in a white shirt and blue shorts. The boy holding her hand and kissing her shoulder was only a little taller than her. The couple made their way to a car right next to the Nissan. Matt lit another stick, ignoring the couple as they scrambled into the back seat of their car.

It wasn't long before it became a little hard to ignore the couple. Moans erupted from the car next to Matt and Mello, mixed with light thuds when their hands slammed against the windows. The car rocked slightly and Matt felt his forehead crease in embarrassment. What embarrassed him wasn't the semi-public display of love, but the fact that, his cursed brain had immediately pictured that between him and Mello.

He glanced at Mello, careful not to let it show that he would very much like a little leap of faith from him. He couldn't push it, though. It wouldn't be right to push Mello into it. It'd make him no different from the people that had hired Mello before. He needed Mello to make a move, out of his volition.

Upon finding the blonde's face he realized he wasn't the only one paying attention to the rather noisy couple in the car next to them. Mello had a brow cocked and his face spelled "awkward".

"I-We…should…" Mello began, tearing his eyes away from the steadily rocking car. "We should get some rest, right?"

He looked at Matt.  _Agree with me._  He urged.  _Rid me of my predicament._

The brunette nodded and the two made their way back into the car, Mello in the back seat and Matt in the passenger seat. Matt pushed his seat back to get more comfortable and shut his eyes.  _Turn it off._  He urged his mind away from the sounds erupting from the car next to theirs.  _Just tune it out. It isn't happening._

Mello pushed a hand under his head to make himself comfortable as he lay in the backseat. He could see Matt from his angle, the passenger seat being right in front of his legs, curled uncomfortably so that he'd fit in the car. Mello shut his eyes.  _Don't think about it._  He told himself but with every second the part of him that couldn't stand even four inches of gap between him and Matt, seemed to be getting stronger.  _Only a little…maybe. If I could just touch once more._  He was rather astounded by the fact that he seemed to be looking for reasons to touch the brunette again. The cover up at the diner had been rather easy, but how often would chances like that pop up?  _Is this what addiction feels like?_  He wondered, for his fingers were itching, quite literally, for the feel of Matt's skin. He ground his teeth together and shut his eyes frowning at his own discomfort.

Matt turned to glance at the blonde, unsure why he was doing so to begin with. The blonde had one fist curled up and pressed to his lips, the other hand gripping tightly at the hair on the back of his head. There was a frown on his face and his eyes were shut so tight that Matt could almost picture the exploding stars behind them.

_Is he cold?_  He wondered, taking off his jacket and turning to place it over the blonde's light cotton midriff. He turned back around and stared out of the windshield for a while before shutting his eyes.

Mello stared at the side of Matt's face. He pulled the jacket closer to his face.  _Great. It smells like ash._  He thought grumpily and yet found himself nuzzling into it. It was warm, almost as much as Matt's arms had been, the night they had spent in the forest. Mello covered his head with the jacket, feeling his chest grow tight upon thinking of that night and the soft kiss Matt had landed on his hair. He stared worriedly at the inner fabric of the jacket hoping it would miraculously have written information on love.  _Was I always this horrible at this?_  He wondered thinking back to when he was at the orphanage and the time spent with Gareth. He was surprised by what he found in the corner of his mind, or more accurately, what he couldn't find. He found that he couldn't remember clearly just how exactly it had happened between him and his ex. He couldn't recall who had started it, how things had gotten serious between them.  _Am I moving on? Is it alright? If so, is it okay to want Matt? Is it alright to steal…just…one…touch….?_

What happened next, he himself wouldn't be able to explain very well. He pulled the jacket off his face and stared at Matt. He found it easier to take it one blurry step at a time. His back left the seat as he sat up, barely aware of what he was doing. His hand reached for Matt's hair, brushing a strand softly behind the boy's ear. His face was a mere inch from Matt's and he could feel it grow insanely hot, like someone had started a huge fire in his chest, a fire that seemed to rise in his neck reach his mind and completely engulf any and all thoughts.

His finger lightly traced Matt's jaw marveling at how a curve so simple could be so damn beautiful. His lips quivered, breath stopped, as he let his lips caress the curve.

Matt jolted awake.

"Mello!" He rubbed his eyes. "You scared me."

His eyes met Mello's and he saw fire, unlike any other, dancing in the blonde's eyes, urging him to be nearer. He let his hand trace the blonde's face, a thumb lightly tracing the shape of his lips. Mello's hand slipped onto his chest. His lips traced Matt's neck, burrowing into the sweet inviting warmth of the groove of Matt's neck. Matt felt his chest heave in response to the hot fire spewing from Mello's mouth.

The blonde slipped his body between the two front seats, uncomfortably and yet eagerly. Matt wriggled his arms around the ex-dealer's thin waist, pulling him, until Mello was in his lap.

"Mello," He panted. "What're we doing?"

_Don't say a word. Don't wake me from this dream._ Mello urged silently.

Mello's breath was ragged; his eyes shut tight, his forehead creased in utter fear of what his body was doing. His forehead pressed hard against Matt's as he shifted so he was seated on Matt's knees, each of his own knees on either of Matt's sides. He gripped hard at Matt's shirt, yanking it towards himself. He could feel Matt's hands move from his knees up his thighs, softly, carefully. He kissed Matt's cheek, allowing himself just a little more freedom.

Matt's face grew hot, the fire around them making him sweat, making his fingers want more. He edged his jaw forward, closer to Mello's lips, wanting to swallow the blonde whole. Mello's hands pushed him backwards. He tried again, faster this time but Mello pushed him back again.

Their foreheads detached, leaving behind cold sweat.

"Matt," Mello panted, fear rich in his eyes. "Matt…"

He buried his head in the groove of Matt's neck, lips caressing the length of it, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Matt held the blonde tight, eager to erase the fear he could see so clearly in Mello's eyes.

"It's okay." He whispered, kissing the blonde's temple. "It's alright."

Peachy lips, rose from Matt's neck and trailed over his jaw. Eager hands lost themselves in his hair. The blonde rose before him, cupping the back of Matt's head and pressing his face against his chest.

A groan left Matt's lips as he kissed Mello's chest. The blonde panted, caressing the back of Matt's neck. Matt's hands ran down Mello's back, finding it drenched in sweat. His hands caressed the blonde's naked waist. He let his hands wander upwards, under Mello's shirt.

"No!" The blonde cried loosening his grip on Matt's nape. "Stop."

"Mello?" Matt looked questioningly at him.  _What do you want?_

Mello kissed his forehead, unable to answer the questions he saw burning in the brunette's eyes.  _What am I doing?_  He asked himself.  _Why can't I let him..? What's wrong with me?_ He found no solace in the silence that followed his own questions.

"I'm sorry." He whispered in Matt's ear, finding his voice quivering beyond his control.

Matt's arms snaked around his shoulders.

"Don't be, baby." The boy whispered back, sheltering his shivering body in strong arms. Warm practiced lips puckered at Mello's cheeks.

"I'm sorry." Mello whispered again.

The arms around his shoulders grew tighter. "It's alright." Matt lulled. "I love you."

Mello's back grew cold as the three words registered themselves in his mind. His eyes grew wider.  _Loves me…_  He thought, the words ripping him as though he had never heard them before from the same person.  _Matt…Mail Jeevas…loves me._

* * *

Lights went out in the passageway beyond Naomi Misora's office and she felt bitter jealousy for those of her colleagues who could quit so early. She was a self-confessed workaholic and she could barely dream of anything else besides her work. Lately, however, she spent more time at the investigative department than she'd like to.

She had been assigned to a case of kidnapping and attempted manslaughter. She looked at the file sitting on her desk. Matt, a guitarist from a budding rock band, had been kidnapped only a few seconds after two explosions at the band's gig had put an early stop to their tour.

What baffled her was the lack of leads on who Matt was. She had been to the scene of the crime, checked out Matt's dressing room and found little that led her to Matt's own identity. It was like he barely existed. If the band manager was to be believed, Matt was an orphan with no name besides his first. Larry, the manager, had refused to give her too many details about Matt, choosing instead to go to her superior, Kai, with the case.

Kai instead had given her the responsibility to wait for a call from the kidnapper. After waiting for a day she had announced Matt dead, choosing to find the culprit instead of waiting. But the lack of leads was just agitating. She found herself jump for the phone every time it rang hoping it'd be some news, any news, anything she could call a lead.

The phone on her desk chose to ring again. She jumped out of her thoughts and grabbed the receiver before it could ring again.

"Hello?" She questioned. The man on the other end yammered about a stolen car.

Her shoulders slumped.  _This is the investigative department not the police station._

"Did you see the person? If so, could you describe for me what the person looked like?" She decided to play along. She had little to do anyways, so why not.

The man said he hadn't seen the culprit.

"And where exactly did this happen?"

The man gave an address and she noted it down neatly on a paper.

"Right. And can you give me the details of this car?"

She hung up after writing down the details of the car and stared at the address. Who would've thought working in the investigative department could be so dull? She found herself frown at the address. Something about it seemed familiar.  _Could it be..?_

She turned to her laptop and pulled out a map of the place the man had mentioned. It was rather close to the town the explosions had taken place in. Her eyes went wide with realization and she picked up the paper and left her office for Kai's.

She knocked on the door, ignoring the voices from the other end.

"Come in." She heard Kai call.

"Sir, I have news." She stepped in and much to her dismay found Larry and a young boy in the office with Kai.  _Why can't this man just come to me about the case?_

"News?"

She relayed the information she had just received trying to ignore her anger at Larry for being unable to trust her with the investigation.  _Tell me it's not because I'm a woman._

Kai simply frowned at his desk, nodding occasionally.

"It could be the kidnapper." He said finally. "You've done well, Naomi."

She straightened herself in pride.

"I believe you've already met Larry." Kai continued, gesturing a light hand towards the man seated in front of him.

Naomi nodded in his direction.

"This is Gareth." Kai introduced the younger boy to Naomi and she simply stood there wondering if this was a good time for casual introductions. "They've come to me with a little secret about Matt."

"Secret, Sir?" She asked, finding herself frown at Larry's inability to trust her again.

"They claim Matt was into some hard drugs." Kai said with practiced nonchalance. "Apparently, they wanted to keep this a secret for the sake of the band but they feel that perhaps Matt had somehow crossed his dealer – "

"So the dealer is the kidnaper and eventually the killer." Naomi cut in. It made more sense now. "Any chance you know who the dealer was?" She asked the men seated across Kai.

"His name is Mello." The boy called Gareth informed.

"Good." She felt her hand curl into fists with determination.  _Finally something to go on._  "So all I need to do is track this Mello."

"It's not going to be that easy." Gareth warned. "From what I know of him, Mello is rather careful about not leaving clues behind. There won't be records on him. No photographs…nothing basically."

_Great…_ Naomi lamented silently, shoulders slumping again.

"However, if what you say is true and Mello is the one that stole the car, then he has been a little reckless." Gareth continued. "I suppose using that, finding them wouldn't be so hard for a hard working person such as yourself."

Naomi enjoyed the compliment for a bit before nodding. "So long as I can find the car, finding the culprit shouldn't be an issue."

"Then I'll leave it up to you." Kai said leaving his seat and escorting Naomi out of his office. "Take any number of men you want, to go in the field with you." He said before he shut the door.

Naomi frowned.  _Why would I need_ _ **men**_ _to go with me?_  She wondered as she walked back to her office to call the man back and collect the details of the car. She stopped in her tracks as Gareth's words played in her head again.

… _I suppose using that, finding_ _ **them**_ _wouldn't be so hard…_

_Them? Does he mean Matt isn't dead?_  She wondered.  _But how can he be sure? The kidnapper didn't ask for ransom. Matt can't be alive._

Meanwhile, Kai turned to face the men seated in his office.

"Now what?" He asked.

"I don't want police involvement in this Kai." Gareth warned. Kai had been an asset to their family for ages and also the person responsible for frequently finding Mello once the boy had decided to run away. It was for that reason Gareth had chosen to come here and ask for help yet again. "If the police gets involved, the media gets involved."

"And we can't have bad publicity." Larry finished.

"We want no publicity in fact." Gareth corrected.

"Listen," Kai raised his hands to calm the men. "The second she find the whereabouts of that car I'll let you know. I won't let her take them on. Right now all we know is that he stole a car, not where he is or anything."

"Good." Gareth nodded in consent. "I'll have my men deal with them once you find them. Do nothing, just find them and tell me."

* * *

Mello yanked at the door handle, scrambling out of the car and off of Matt in a hurry.

_Mail Jeevas loves me._  He found the words pounded painfully in his head.

The brunette followed after him watching him pant visibly.

"What is it?" He asked. He wondered if Mello had even realized what he had just done or if he had just dreamt it. He couldn't quite figure out what it was that the blonde wanted.

"I need a minute." He heard the blonde pant, hands on his knees.

"Need a minute to do what?"

"I don't know!" Mello yelled at him, flailing his hands in the air. "I don't know, okay? I just…" Mello took a deep breath. "I don't know what I'm doing."

"I can tell." Matt cocked a brow at the blonde but his words simply earned him silence and more panting.

"Matt…" The blonde turned his back towards Matt. "Do you love me?"

"I don't think that's a secret anymore."

"Just…I…might….I think…." Mello urged the words out of his mouth, just anything to make this situation he had gotten himself in come to an end. His throat felt like a clogged pipe his heart like a sorry piece of meat being struck by a hammer. He held his breath and shut his eyes.  _Pretend he isn't there. Pretend you're just practicing._  "I…like you.."

Matt felt a soft smile spread over his face. Warmth filled his chest and he found himself whisper, "I know."

"But I don't…" The blonde turned to look at him, mouth curled in either disgust or fear, Matt couldn't tell. "I don't want to…I don't want to like you."

Matt's brow shot up as he looked at a car in the background trying to place what he should be feeling. "What…" He felt a small defeated laugh leave him.  _This is not happening._  "What does that even mean?"

"I don't know!" The blonde lamented again. "I just don't want it. I don't think I can handle it. I don't want to handle it."

"What's there to handle?" Matt found his voice growing urgent, his tone worried.

"What do you mean?" The blonde yelled at him and Matt had to rub his brow to keep himself calm. "This! This needs handling! Relationships are hard work Matt! And things…everything…can go horribly wrong. I can't…I just can't!"

"Okay, Mello." Matt held up his hands in front of him, trying to get himself to breathe properly. "Just…relax-"

"I AM RELAXED!" Mello fists curled into balls. He could see all his composure exploding to bits, all the careful thinking and planning going to waste. He could almost picture it, the demise of his composure, like a mushroom cloud of a nuclear explosion. He was, yet again, a slave to his emotions.

"Sure…now just calm down and control the volume." Matt urged.

"NO! YOU CALM THE FUCK DOWN!" Mello yelled, barely aware of himself anymore.

"I haven't…done…a thing!" Matt stressed on each word, hoping that the pauses would help him keep his calm, but so much for that. It was proving to be painfully difficult. Not only did he, after twelve days of wait finally had Mello right where he had wanted him but he had also just lost him before ever having him. Now the strain of the days, no, the months of waiting on Mihael, his need to prove himself to Mello, the painful wait after his confession, everything, threatened to become too much for his shoulders.  _All that build up..All that wait..All that…for nothing?_ "I have done nothing…Not..a single…FUCKING…thing!"

Mello eyes, wide with rage darted at the car behind Matt, the car he had so recently lost his control in.  _I should never have!_  He found his mind yell.  _Not ever again! You said one single touch!_  He gave himself a mental guilt trip.  _One touch! How the fuck did one touch turn into this?_  And yet the sensation of Matt's touch was burning on his skin, still alive from want.

"You tried to feel me up!" Mello yelled at the brunette, mouth curling in disgust. His expression was a lie though, a desperate attempt at trying to have the higher ground.

Matt's brow furrowed in anger. He was taken aback by Mello's accusation. He had time and again thought of feeling several parts of Mello's body but forcing Mello was never his intention. "You were sitting on my lap!" He howled, both hands pointing downwards at his thighs. "How the fuck was I supposed to interpret that?"

"You pulled me there!"

"Well then why didn't you argue back then?" Matt's hands rested on his hips and he stared, waiting for an answer.

Mello's shoulders slumped. He knew he was wrong. He could tell what he was doing. He was trying to Matt look like the bad guy, trying to prove that he wasn't as nice or as well suited for him as he was. And he was doing this, only so that he wouldn't have to step out of his shell.

"I don't know." He whispered.

"What're you afraid of?" Matt found the question spill out of his mouth. He had been curious to ask the blonde for a while. "There's no one around, no one to stop you, no one to ruin it for you. Then what're you so afraid of?"

He watched the defeated blonde walk away and seat himself on the hood of their Nissan.

"You." Mello murmured.

"Sorry?"

"You, Matt." Mello repeated. "I'm afraid of you. I'm afraid of the part of me that you're bringing back to life… I'm afraid of what would happen if I let you and if this fails….I'm afraid of having hope only to lose it."

Matt stared at Mello's small back.  _And here I am with nothing but hearts in my head…_

He recalled the day he had found Mello standing alone on the bridge awaiting his destiny. He could still recall with intricate detail the way Mello had doubted him, pointed a gun between his eyes. Matt had tried to remain calm, cherishing the sight of his lover. It wouldn't have mattered if he had died then and there, by Mello's own hand…

…because Mello had killed him already. He had ever since felt dead to anything else, as though he could put his life in a box, wrap it with a ribbon and hand it to Mello.

And here his lover found it so difficult to trust him…But Matt couldn't blame Mello.  _No._ He scolded himself.  _It's not me he doesn't trust. It's life he doesn't trust._  His heart yearned to erase Mello's past, to see him blissful and ignorant again. Pain was the last thing Matt wanted for Mello.

"I understand." He said, walking towards the slouched blonde sitting on the hood of the black Nissan. "I understand it's difficult for you. I realize it must be terribly hard to trust anyone after all you've been through. And I do implore you to proceed with caution, whatever caution you deem necessary."

Mello looked up at the brunette standing in front of him. He felt like a different person altogether, not the careless redhead he had met, not the occasionally naïve brunette he had been spending his time with. He felt stronger than Mello and Mello felt incredibly small in his presence.

"But you mustn't be afraid to claim what's already yours, Mello." Mello let Matt take his face in his hands, hands that felt bigger now, stronger, comforting even. "And I am all yours."

Matt's lips touched Mello's lightly, awaiting approval, approval that came almost instantly. Mello crushed their lips together, grabbing the back of Matt's head and taking him down as Mello's back crashed against the car.

Mello let the heat envelope him. The fire consumed him and he was panting again, searching for solace in Matt's arms. Their lips moved uncontrollably over each other's, stopping only to gasp for breath every other second. Their tongues dove for each other's, dancing to a tune no one else could hear. Wind blew against Matt's back, pushing him further into Mello's chest and the whole universe seemed to approve of their union.

Leaving Mello's lips with much effort, Matt looked down at his lover. He found Mello's cheeks wet, his forehead creased with worry.

"I'm afraid, Matt." The blonde whimpered, his arms tightly holding Matt's shoulders. "I'm afraid I'll wake up and you won't be there."

Matt kissed the river Mello's tears had left behind.

"We'll do whatever you want to." He whispered to the blonde. "We'll go at whatever pace you want. Don't worry. I'll be here. I'll go anywhere with you."

He felt Mello's arms pulling him closer.

"I love you, Mello." He repeated, urging the blonde to believe him.

The blonde kissed him in response, heart hammering hard in his chest. A bitter sweet taste rose through his body pushing aside his worries, like dawn breaking through night and despite his creased forehead and the still flowing rivers on his cheek, Mello let out a tired chuckle and buried his head in Matt's chest.

**Moral: To love is to risk not being loved in return. To hope is to risk pain.**


	14. Chocolate

**Date: 10** **th** **May 2009.**

The warm sunlight danced on Mello's face in patches, finding its way to his skin from between the whizzing trees that passed them by and through the car window. The smile on his face was both involuntary and unnoticed, but only until he glanced at the brunette in the driver's seat. His smile spread further as his eyes fell on the hacker. Though the smile held some percentage of simple pleasure at finding his companions features, most of Mello's amusement came from how fast said companion's eyes had whizzed off of him when Mello met his gaze.

His companion was a strange sort of boy that Mello couldn't quite help but feel fuzzy around. If he had to compare, Mello would compare the fuzziness to the warm sigh of satisfaction that'd leave ones lips upon finally sinking into bed after a long physically strenuous day…..But not quite….Mello frowned at the boy trying to pin exactly what the feeling could be compared to.

It couldn't be just a bed. That was too cold. It was  _the_  bed, the only bed Mello could imagine being comfortable in, not because it was expensive or anything but because it stood for the strong promise that it would be there after every long day. And much of the words Matt, his chocolate haired companion, had said to him last night were just that, strong promises of becoming Mello's one place to return to, of being Mello's everlasting companion, his home, the backbone of his existence.

But despite the strength of the promises, and the fuzzy feelings the hacker had slowly spread inside him like a virus would spread cold, Mello was still daunted by the ultimate truth. He was grounded by it, pulled back into the void to feel the cold of the world. And the truth was that nothing lasts forever. While this was the ultimate truth for everything, whether that's a bed or a relationship, Mello feared he was the one that was going to cause the end.

He tore his gaze off Matt. He hadn't said much since they had woken up this morning in the back seat of their stolen old Nissan. Mello had risen first, annoyed by the glare of the sun on his eyes, and had attempted to wriggle his way out of Matt's grip only to find Matt's arms tighten around his waist.

"Wake up, Matt." Mello had urged his comfortable, clingy companion. "We gotta go."

Matt had proceeded to make groggy noises against Mello's navel, most of which Mello could not decipher. However, he did catch a "lil' longer" somewhere in there.

Mello had been forced to smile at his friend for the zillionth time. "Fine." He said placing a rushed, barely there kiss on Matt's forehead. "You can sleep longer. I'll drive us out of here."

"Nooo!" Matt had whined. "Stay just a while."

"We have to go." Mello had tried pushing the strong arms off himself but to no avail. In the end, sighing, he had said, "I thought you said we'd do whatever I want."

The brunette had let out a moan of despair and hesitantly loosened his grip on Mello's waist earning him a kiss flat on his lips, a longer one as a reward for his obedience.

And though it had been a mere kiss, Matt's eyes had swept open, a shameless grin had stretched over his face and Mello had watched bemusedly as Matt crawled into the driver's seat opting to drive instead.

"Pull over if you find someplace to eat." Mello instructed his companion, ignoring his thoughts about this morning. "I'm hungry."

Matt replied with a simple nod, flashy grin and a short "cool".

Mello resumed his boring activity of staring out the window, his mind slowly reaching back to the fear he had earlier been pondering over, the fear that if his relationship with Matt was to end, then he, Mello, might end up being to blame for it. It was a farfetched assumption, one that had no grounds whatsoever in calculated inevitability but it was logical and highly possible.

Mello slumped a little in his seat thinking back to the words that Matt had whispered to him just the night before.

" _We'll do whatever you want to. We'll go at whatever pace you want. Don't worry. I'll be here. I'll go anywhere with you."_

Mello frowned. It wasn't that the promises didn't make him feel comforted, didn't make him giddy with happiness or didn't make him want hold Matt so tight that he'd either merge into Mello and become one misshapen yet happy being or explode entirely from the heat of wanting to be merged to that extend. It wasn't that, because all those things Mello felt every time he thought about those words and, even though it had merely been half a day since, Mello had thought about it a lot.

What worried him though was the unintentional leash he had put around Matt's neck. He could control every aspect of their relationship, how far they'd go, where they'd go, what they'll do, etcetera and Mello knew Matt wasn't an idiot. He was bound to know when Mello was abusing his power but he wondered just how long Matt would be willing to keep quiet and be patient about it.

True, refusing to go all the way with Matt wasn't abusive towards his powers but it was testing Matt's patience, his willpower and how long he could go without being sexually frustrated with his lover. Another little piece of thought Mello couldn't help but add to the equation was that he himself wasn't sure how long it would take for him to be able to give Matt what he wanted and rightfully deserved.

Mello tried concentrating on the problem; him. He tried to understand exactly what had rendered him unable to go all the way the previous night.  _Am I broken?_  He wondered.  _Did they manage to break some part of me? Am I incapable of loving?_  The thoughts were endless. But he could call it a fear of intimacy and conclude that perhaps somehow he was robbed of his libido at some point between being sold to one sex starved man to the next. But that thought didn't comfort him. Instead it made things far more unbearable.

He glanced again at the boy in the driver's seat, the boy willing to wait as long as it took for Mello to trust him but what if the problem wasn't trust at all? What if Mello was just broken and there was no way to fix him?  _Then what would he do? Will he stay or leave? Should he be staying then? Can I blame him if he leaves? Doesn't he deserve to be loved?_

Those were the questions cramming Mello's mind when Matt pulled over in the parking lot of a lonely general store.

Mello stepped out of the car clad in his leather again, and glad he had made the decision to change into it before they hit the road. There was something about leather than made him feel superior, authoritative, level-headed, and street-smart even. He guessed it had much to do with the detective stories he had pored over as a child.

The detectives in his stories always seemed to resort to back alley ways of getting work done, that authorities and police departments often overlooked or thought of as too low-down for them for reasons Mello could never understand.  _I mean, if it gets the job done then why not get your hands dirty?_  He had always thought.

As a boy he had admired reading about fictional characters in long black leather coats, heavy boots and hats dripping wet in the rain making deals with devils and demons only to solve a mystery, and that had just left its impression on him. Growing up, however, he had become more fond of reading real detectives' works; articles off the internet, stories in the newspapers, blogs of retired private detectives and others still in business. It had seemed more real to him in comparison to the fictional characters but immensely lacking in style. Most of the real-life detectives thought it was a serious job for serious people which Mello agreed it was, but where was the fun in that? It needed to be more than just a serious job. It needed to be adventurous, daring, dirty and sometimes even down right wrong.

Only a handful of the detectives he read about were just that. A few seemed to stand out above the rest. But none so much as the one Mello looked up to most of his life. Mello pulled on a pair of glasses and smirked at the thought of that one detective.  _It's been a while since I've thought about this._  It was pointless now though, due to the government growing increasingly suspicious of private detectives and agitated with their shady methods, almost all the private detectives in the world had been shut down. Only those who followed decorum remained. But where was the fun in that?

"Hey, Mell," Matt called, slamming the driver's door shut. "I need to buy a pack. We could get something to eat for the road as well."

Mello followed Matt into the store, sparing the cashier a curt nod. He stood next to the counter and watched as Matt scanned the aisles for anything edible.

Matt walked through shelves full of candy, glancing back at Mello. He could tell Mello was deep in thought and had been since they had woken up. They had barely spoken all day and Matt could've sworn he could smell Mello's blonde messy hair burn with concentration.

He, himself had been battling thoughts all day. Most of his thoughts stemmed from his need to know Mello's thoughts. He had thought about asking him about it only to decide against it. He didn't want to seem like he was pushing Mello into revealing something he didn't want to talk about.  _Don't want to scare him away._  He thought.  _Now that we're at least….together._

The night before when they had finally gotten off the hood of the car, Matt had followed Mello into the backseat where he had held Mello all night, comforting him and occasionally telling him to shut up whenever Mello had felt the need to apologize for some reason.

A sigh left him as he stared at a row of tic tacs. He rubbed his chin and felt his forehead crease in worry. It was a complicated situation to be in. Matt had no experience whatsoever with relationships. At the orphanage he had been too shy to even speak to anyone. He had, in fact, even avoided going to interviews with his many potential parents because of his shyness. And some girl would've found it cute if it was your usual red faced, pouty, awkward kind of shyness but, no, Matt had been a social disaster. He had a tendency to purposely talk back as rudely as he could to people so that he wouldn't have to deal with the fact that he was in fact extremely shy and afraid of them. There were several chances of relationships after he had joined the band though, if all he wanted was a girl in his arms that is. After being on stage for the first time he had concluded that dating a fan would be a complete disaster. He expected them to have high expectations of him and perhaps they'd want to brag about being his date. Both things would make him just another trophy boyfriend not the person with insecurities and flaws that he was. His sex life had been abundant and fruitful but he had paid professionals to sleep with him and never actually taken a fan, or any other girl or boy, for that matter, to bed with him.

And therefore, due to his inexperience he couldn't understand how to treat Mello.  _Should I ask what's on his mind? Should I ask why he hasn't said anything substantial in the past five hours?_

"Are you going to buy something or just stand there and stare at tic tacs?" The cashier called out. Matt shook himself out of his thoughts and, sparing the guy a smile, continued to walk down the aisle. Spotting a cup of shrimp flavored instant noodles; he picked it up and waved it in Mello's direction.

Mello shrugged at Matt turning his attention to the neatly lined assortment of chewing gums he was standing next to.  _Maybe he should buy a few of these._ The thought casually swam through his brain. It wasn't that he minded Matt's smoking. It didn't matter. The smell was more characteristic of Matt than it was a warning sign for lung cancer to him, but breath fresheners were never a bad thing either. His eyes trailed to a single tall shelf next to the counter.

The contents of it made him frown and look away. His thoughts of Matt and his needs came rushing back like a dam that had just been broken. And despite staring at the floor with intensity that could easily make the floor catch fire, he couldn't get himself to ignore the shelf. Like something caught in his peripheral vision, it sat there, bugging him and he had to scratch it.

His eyes hesitantly scanned the shelf from their corners. An assortment of contraceptives and sexual stimulators sat displayed on the shelf, colorful like the chewing gum wrappers Mello had been observing not long ago. His eyes trailed towards the condoms and he found himself reading the dirty little taglines they held under the brand names as discreetly as he could manage. Some of them were crude and obvious and just made Mello all the more reluctant to look in their direction. Some however were quirky and smart and Mello couldn't help but smirk and wonder who had sat in their office late at night to come up with them.

_I don't need this._ He thought, looking away from the shelf and glancing back at Matt.  _What's taking him so long?_

His eyes, as if lured by some devilish power scanned through the shelf again.  _Glow in the dark, flavored, ribbed, dotted, extra thin, extra thick, warming, lubricated, etcetera, etcetera._ He scanned the types like a pre-teen, fascinated by the idea of sex. But Mello wasn't exactly fascinated. He couldn't place what he felt. It was a mixture of fear and longing, he concluded. His fear stemmed from whatever it was that had stopped him from letting Matt touch him excessively the previous night and his longing stemmed from his own need for companionship. He had been long without a real relationship and he had been alone, despite the abundance of unwelcome sex in his life. He shook his head. The abundance of unwelcome sex only increased his want for something intimate and warm but the fear, the images in his head brought him rushing back from any warm thoughts. He glanced at Matt again. The brunette was frowning at shelves full of chocolate bars. Mello found himself smile tiredly at Matt.

That was the problem. The problem was that his boyfriend, friend, companion, whatever, was a good person who deserved to be loved, to have his needs fulfilled. There needed to be a reward for all the things Matt was willing to put himself through for Mello. And there needed to be salvation for Mello as well.

_But what if I can't?_ Mello wondered.  _What if I really am broken?_

"Is this fine?" Matt's voice startled Mello out of his thoughts.

"Is what fine?"

"The chocolate."

Mello looked down at it. Five bars of delicious confection of sugar, cocoa and milk were cuddling in Matt's arms along with four cups of shrimp flavored noodles. Mello nodded in a hurry and watched as Matt proceeded to dump the things on the counter and wait for the cashier to check them. Mello grabbed a little packet of chewing gum and threw it onto the pile, though his mind was on different kind of chewy material.

His eyes blinked towards the tall shelf full of condoms and his mouth twisted.

"Uh and a pack of cigarettes, please." Matt said to the cashier.

The man turned around and pointed at a random box.

"No." Matt instructed. "Marlboro reds. They're down there in the bottom row."

"Soft box or hard pack?" The cashier asked Matt, squatting to reach for the bottom row as Matt bagged their purchase.

"Soft box."

Mello took his chance, while both Matt and the cashier were busy. His eyes dove for the shelf.  _Durex._  He thought.  _That's like the only brand besides Trojan I've heard of….Flavored?...or no-….chocolate? Yes, please._ Mello's hand lunged for the chocolate brown box and as unobtrusively as he could, he yanked it off the shelf and shoved it in his pocket.

"Here you go!" The cashier handed Matt the box of cigarettes but Mello couldn't spare a moment to stand through the rest of it and was already halfway towards the door.

"You're taking too bloody long." He growled pushing the glass doors violently open. "I'm in the car."

Mello stormed towards the car, ignoring the urge to look back just in case the cashier had noticed the bulk in his right pocket where he had stuffed the box. Tight leather suddenly didn't seem like a very good idea.

Once he had slammed the car door shut Mello pulled out his loot. The square-ish box sat in his palm, staring temptingly up at him. The colors of the box were discreet and yet oddly sensual, like a promise of a wild night whispered between lovers at a crowded dinner party.  _Well, twelve wild nights actually._  
Mello thought noting that the box contained twelve little rubbers.

The driver's door yanked open and Mello hurriedly shoved his loot back in his pocket, smiling triumphantly to himself.

"What the hell, Mell?" Matt whined pulling on his seat belt. "You could've at le-" His eyes fell on the blonde, covering his mouth and trying to suppress a smile. "What're you smiling about?"

"Nothing." Mello let out a chuckle. "You'll see."

Mello closed the gap between them and planted a small wet kiss on Matt's lips, relishing the confusion in his eyes.

* * *

Matt tapped the headlights of the car off and proceeded to unlink the exposed wires of the car from when he had hotwired it. Night had fallen while they were driving south away from the mess they had made and, this time, Mello had suggested they find a proper bed to sleep in.

Matt couldn't say he wasn't glad. As much as he had enjoyed spooning with Mello in the backseat, his neck was in knots and the pain in his derriere and his legs was close to being unbearable. Hence a real bed would've been very much welcome. And that was where they were now, pulling up in the parking lot of a motel hoping they could find a place to rest for the night.

Matt followed obediently after Mello, carrying his bag on his shoulders. The ride here had been less quiet than their ride to the convenience store and Matt couldn't help shake the feeling that it had a little to do with whatever it was Mello had been smiling about. _Did he figure something out?_ He wondered.  _What was he thinking about anyway?_

He had plucked the courage and asked Mello about it only to have Mello twist and duck the question and change topics. After asking twice Matt had given up frowning and wondering why Mello couldn't tell him.

He watched Mello talk to a man behind the desk asking him for a room for two and sighed wishing he could simply hack Mello's computer and find out what this was all about. But in all the time he had spent with Mello, it seemed as though the blonde had dropped his habit of unloading on a word document. Matt wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad thing. Either way he knew he had something to do with it. The best case scenario would be that Mello was so content with Matt that he felt no need to resort to his habit and the worst case scenario would be that Matt had made Mello too insecure to ever want to unload on anything ever again. Something told him the latter was a more logical scenario since clearly Mello didn't share his thoughts with Matt.

Matt felt another sigh leave him. He barely heard the keeper talk about how he had been running this motel since the beginning of time, as they followed him upstairs to their room.

The room wasn't the biggest but it wasn't the smallest either. There were two sunken beds propped against the north wall. Two little bedside tables sat between the beds. There was a large television set on a TV trolley sitting against the south wall and Matt felt himself pout as he looked at it. He had left all his consoles, besides the handhelds, behind. He had to. Their plan would've been obvious is he had taken everything that was precious to him with him.

A few feet away from the TV trolley was a door leading to the bathroom while a large window stood proudly against the west wall.

Matt scurried indoors, ignoring the keeper, and Mello, and, dropping his bag, dove for the bed, stretching and rolling on it like a dog in snow. He propped himself up on his elbows as he heard Mello shut the door.

The blonde lingered at the door for a while. His hand sat still on the door knob and he stared down at it.

_I'm ready._  He told himself but he wasn't convinced. So he said it again, and again. But it made no difference.

He frowned at the white chipping paint of the door.  _I don't give a flying fuck if I'm ready or not._  He thought, dropping his bag at the door.  _If I said I'm doing this, means I am doing this._

A frown clad on his face he turned to find Matt staring at him. The brunette's brow cocked in bewilderment. Mello ignored it.

A frown still in place on his face he walked towards Matt. The loyal hacker smiled up at him.

"Why the long face?" He asked as Mello stopped right in front of him. Mello's hand caressed the bulge in his pocket where the square-ish box sat patiently awaiting use. Matt's eyes fell onto the bulge.

"What's that, Mellz?" He asked sitting up.

Mello remained silent, his eyes fixed on Matt, a brow raised, jaw clenched, chin cocked in pride he wasn't willing to shatter. Matt found himself mesmerized by the look on Mello's face. His heart raced in his chest. Something about the way Mello looked at him made him feel a little aroused.

Mello's hand wandered onto his chest and, finding the zipper holding his leather vest firmly on his petite chest, he pulled it down. Matt's eyes followed. His breath became more audible to him as Mello's skin bared itself before him, peeking through black leather.

_He's watching me._ Matt thought and his eyes shot back up to meet Mello's.

Mello's lips were parted, his chest heaving as he watched the brunette. His vest fell to the floor, his skin bare before his lover. He tugged at his belt and watched Matt's lips part, his eyes grow wide in disbelief.

_He's watching me._ Mello thought and the thought made him feel a bit nauseated. He had been watched several times by several people and enjoyed none of it.  _But this is different._ He told himself.  _This is Matt._  And it was different. Anyone he had ever been with trailed their eyes hungrily over his body. But Matt was aware of Mello's eyes and met it. He showed no hunger, just awe.

The buckle came loose and so did the laces holding his pants on his crotch. He carefully pulled them down, keeping his eyes on Matt. He bared himself before Matt, willing to give himself up.

His pants were at his feet now, along with the vest, the black cotton fabric of his underwear the only thing keeping him from being completely naked.

Matt simply sat there, his eyes fixed on Mello's, not daring to venture downwards, just in case he gave Mello the wrong impression. The blonde stepped silently towards him, his feet falling soundlessly against the floor like he was levitating above it, like even the ground wasn't allowed to touch him. Matt's gaze didn't leave Mello's eyes. But in the scope of his vision he could see the unrivalled beauty before him; Slim shoulders, small waist, long limbs and chiseled pelvic bones.

Matt's heart climbed to his throat as Mello slowly settled beside him. Mello held out his hand to Matt and without thinking or looking away from Mello's face, Matt took his hand. He felt a little square box between their hands and, frowning, he looked down.

The box stared back at him. The brand logo on it was all too familiar to Matt. The box happily informed him that its contents were yummy and safe at the same time to provide a carefree and sensual adult experience.

Matt's eyes shot back up, wide as plates now. There was hot color in the blonde's cheeks, running down his neck and fading into his shoulders.

"I got it at the store." Mello told him in a small voice. "I stole it."

Matt's mind raced back to the smile he had seen Mello suppress in the car after had so noisily exited the general store.  _He's been thinking about this all day?_  He wondered.

Matt found his eyes glued to the box. He stared hard at it reading the neutral looking copy-write over and over.  _12 chocolate flavored condoms._ He read it over and over again just to make sure he wasn't reading it wrong.

Mello lightly and hesitantly buried his face in the groove of Matt's neck. Matt's hair tickled at his face. His warmth comforted Mello.

"It's for you." He whispered just to make sure Matt understood.

"You want this?" Matt asked.

"Don't you?"

"I-I do."

Mello straightened himself, wondering how long Matt would take to register the fact that he was sitting right next to him, clad in nothing but his underwear.

"Why don't we use one then?" He took the box from Matt's hand and pried it open.

Matt bit his lip. His eyes lingered to the length of Mello's legs. Mello's skin was immaculate, pale, stained pink in places where his warm blood made itself known. Matt felt heat rush down him. He looked up at the blonde, fidgeting with the seal on the box.

His eyes grew wide as the thought, the reality of the situation dawned on him. He took the blonde's face, planted a kiss on his lips and leaned into him so Mello's back fell against the soft fabric of the bed. Matt licked at Mello's lips, begging entry which Mello didn't deprive him of.

Mello felt the softness of Matt's cotton black and white striped shirt against his chest, the warmth of Matt's jeans enveloping one of his legs. It was comforting, warm, soft and passionate but Mello felt himself sweat as Matt's hands left his face and ventured over his bare shoulders and he knew the sweat had nothing to do with being aroused. He felt himself shudder as Matt's hand caressed his side, slowly, carefully searching for Mello's nipple.

When Matt's hands left his to pull off his striped shirt and pull his pants to his knees, Mello was almost glad.  _It's Matt._  He reminded himself but it took a lot not to picture someone else there when his eyes were closed. And the thought of anyone else was not alright with him.

Matt bent over him, eager to take his lips again. Mello put an arm between them, took a couple of sharply drawn breaths to prepare himself and pulled the brunette's face back to his own.  _I can do this._ He told himself and yet when his eyes shut and Matt's lips met his and Matt's hands eagerly searched Mello's body, his fear kicked in. His mind went back to unwelcome thoughts.

He pictured shivering under someone else's touch. He pictured begging them to let him go but to no avail. He pictured his apathy with passing time. He pictured how sometimes he'd be so out of it, so sick of fighting, so sick of having to beg that he'd just lie there allowing whoever would do whatever to him to do just that; whatever.

His breath grew ragged. Matt's hands were caressing his hips and a warning was sounding in his head.

"Matt!" He called, ripping his lips off of Matt's.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No. No."

Matt sat up.

Mello drew a few sharp breaths. "I'm trying." He whispered, his arms covering his eyes. "I swear, I am."

"Are you alright?" Matt asked.

"Erase them from me…" Mello pleaded, grabbing Matt's arm and pulling him back into place, over him.

Matt felt realization strike him yet again. He pulled Mello into his arms.

"Don't force yourself like this." He cradled the blonde.

"You want this." The blonde whispered, his head buried in Matt's chest. "You deserve this."

"What I want is not worth breaking yourself over." Matt said, kissing Mello's forehead.

"You don't understand." Mello whispered. He threw his arms around Matt's shoulders, pushed himself into Matt's lap. "I want this too. But I need to be rid of them. I want you to erase them. I don't want these memories. I try…but it keeps coming back."

Matt held Mello hard. The blonde' knees dug into either of his sides. The death grip Mello had on his shoulders threatening to make his head run out of blood. He frowned in worry.  _I know nothing about these things._ He thought.  _What do I do?_

He recalled how in his very first rant Mello had mentioned wanting not to be alone, wanting to go to someone to cry about things. Matt swallowed. Somehow it felt like if he just stood aside and waited for Mello to gather himself and get over his past, they would achieve nothing. Like Mello had just mentioned,  _"I want you to erase them"._  And Mello was right, the past wouldn't just vanish and Mello wouldn't one day wake up and just be alright with having Matt between his legs. He needed to do something before it was too late. He couldn't sit around.  _I am his. I love him._ He told himself, a determined look on his face.  _If I don't help him through this, who will?_

"Mello?" He began. "Don't push yourself." He pulled himself out of Mello's death grip with some difficulty. The blonde looked up at through the top of his eyes, his forehead creased in worry, lips pouting with his helplessness. "How about we take it a step at a time?" Matt smiled at Mello.

The blonde nodded, took a deep breath and ran a hand over his chin.

"What's the first step?" He asked.

"This." Matt said smiling. "You've passed step one."

Mello cocked a brow. "That's it?"

Matt's smile spread. "Not only did you think about it all day but you stole a box of condoms and stripped down to your underwear." He counted. "Well done!"

A soft laughter left Mello. His brow cocked in disbelief. And yet it felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, like he was done with his strenuous day and finally back in that one bed, sinking into the sheets after a long day.

He pulled Matt into another hug.

"Doesn't it bother you that I completely failed at what I was trying to do?" He asked.

"No." He heard Matt's soft reply. The boy ran a light finger down his spine and instead of shuddering, to his surprise, Mello felt warmth rush through him. "It flatters me that you tried."

Mello climbed back onto Matt's lap, his legs split apart in his need to be as close as he could to the brunette. He wrapped his legs around Matt's waist and pushed into him. He stopped suddenly. Matt was hard.

He pulled Matt to face him, forehead against forehead. The brunette had richest red Mello had ever seen etched on his cheeks.

"I-uh…." Matt mumbled, thinking of an excuse or something that would erase what Mello had so clearly noticed.

Mello laughed and placed a kiss on Matt's lips.

"You talk big, Matt." He said. "But how're you going to handle the snake in your underwear?"

Matt frowned. "I'll figure something out."

Mello planted another kiss.  _One for cuteness._

He pushed Matt's back onto the sunken mattress.

"Can we try another step?" He whispered, his lips an inch from Matt's. "Can we see if I can do something about it?"

His fingers ran down Matt's chest, over his navel and played with the hem of his briefs. Matt bit his lip as one of Mello's fingers slipped in and tugged at the fabric. Mello yanked harder and the fabric moved down his legs, unleashing his manhood.

Mello felt Matt's breath quiver against his cheek as he ran a hand over his shaft. His eyes met the brunette's as he began to slowly move over it. He watched Matt's face change. He bit at the thin skin on his lips first, ripping some of it. Then Mello noticed his lips quiver ever so slightly as a hot breath left him. Mello brushed a thumb over the head of Matt's rod and relished as Matt's mouth grew wider and his eyelids drooped.

Mello pumped harder enjoying the change in Matt's expressions. One second he'd spy a little smile on the brunette's face and when he pushed the right button the smile would be replaced with a gasp and a whimper.

He kissed the brunette's wet lips, smiling happily at the things he could do to Matt. He bit at Matt's lower lip and pulled. His eyes fell on the box of condoms that lay rejected between them and he wondered if he could manage another "step".

His hand left Matt's manhood and reached for the box.

"Mell?" The brunette panted in his ear.

Mello gave him a gentle push with his head.

"Try another step?" The blonde asked, a small smile on his face, like that of a child asking for a toy.

Matt grinned at the blonde as Mello, sitting up, tore a little silver packet open with his teeth. A brown circular rubber fell out of the packet. One that Mello picked up and, glancing nervously at Matt, placed against the head of Matt's erection and rolled it in place. Matt licked his lip, trying to hold back a smile at how intensely attractive it was to watch Mello do it. Maybe it was something about it being Mello, the silky skinned blonde he had been obsessing over, or maybe it was something about the fact that it was, for the very first, time a lover doing that not a hired prostitute.  _Or maybe it's that it's flavored and…_  Matt's eyes grew wide as he propped himself up on his elbows watching Mello bend close to his crotch.  _Is he really going to - ?_

His thought was cut short as Mello's lips met his erection and his head fell backwards.

Mello took his time, barely kissing at first and then he took the head in his mouth. His tongue danced on the latex and he found himself smile pleasantly at the taste of chocolate. He played a while, watching Matt eyelids shut lightly, his tongue lick his upper lip and his teeth drag over his wet lower lip. Then, craving yet more chocolate, Mello ran the tip of his tongue from the hilt to the head, relishing Matt's gasp.

Mello shut his eyes.  _It's him._ He told himself.  _It's Matt._ And this time the visions left him alone. Smiling to himself, he took another step, slow, sensual but fearless this time. He took Matt's erection further into his mouth, his speed and range increasing with each stroke.

Soon he was at a steady pace, watching Matt's toes curl, his hands grabbing and yanking at the sheets under them, his nose wrinkled, eyes shut tightly, a red hue stained on his face and neck and Mello thought he hadn't ever seen someone look ever so beautiful as Matt did when he'd look down at him, his forehead creased in painful pleasure, mouth split apart emitting moans aplenty.

In only a while Mello didn't need to watch Matt to know his feelings, the sounds resonating in the room gave him enough information. He pumped harder until Matt couldn't help but moan with each stroke, each touch. Until, finally, he let out a final loud moan that dropped to heavy breathing and an occasional little moan.

Mello pulled the drenched rubber off Matt's shaft, tied a knot on it and tossed it aside, caring little about where it landed. He crawled next to Matt, dragging the blanket with him. There was a satisfied smile plastered on his face as he lay next to him, shoulder to shoulder, heads knocked together.

Matt was panting next to him, sweat shining on his chest as he planted a kiss on Mello's cheek.

"That was a few steps at a time." Mello whispered, staring up at the chipping ceiling. "Wasn't it?"

Matt smiled against Mello's cheek, turning to wrap an arm around his chest.

"Yeah it was." He said.

"Say well done again."

Matt let out a little laugh. "Well done...I love you."

_And I you._

* * *

**Date: 11** **th** **May 2009. Time: 4am.**

Naomi took a sip of her coffee letting it warm her against the cold of her office. She stared hard at the screens around her. She had used her contact at the traffic department to give her video feeds of several areas of a set perimeter around the place where Mello had stolen the car. If what that Gareth guy had told her was true then Mello couldn't be counted on to make another mistake. Her best bet was to watch all the areas and hope he wasn't too far out of reach.

Due to the enormous amount of load she was taking on she had decided it was best not to sleep until she had a trace of Mello. Her contact, realizing her work load, had decided to give her a hand and watch half of the areas. She was thankful for the help and yet a little unsure of it. She was the sort to do her work on her own. There were after all a few people in her department she could ask for help but she couldn't trust them with it. As far as she was concerned, she was surrounded by idiots who never took their jobs seriously.  _Perhaps they got into the academy because they thought it'd be cool to be a detective._ She snorted.  _Cool? There's nothing remotely cool about it._ She took another sip of the coffee. _It is a serious job for serious people, not little boys playing cops and robbers._

But her contact had been her friend since back at the academy and Naomi knew her friend took work seriously. Being the only two women in their year and due to their strong love for their work, they had clicked immediately. What worried Naomi was the fact that her friend wasn't used to these kind of jobs. Being in charge of traffic surveillance wasn't the same as being a detective. And yet she couldn't refuse, for she really could use the help.

And she had been right not to refuse. After just half a day of staring at the screens she had managed to give herself a splitting headache and strong hatred for television sets.

Her cellphone buzzed her out of her thoughts and she hurriedly picked it up.

"Yeah?"

"I think I just saw the Nissan you described." She heard her friend say from across the line. "I saw a couple of guys leave it and go for the motel the car is parked next to. I recorded it. I have been watching but so far no movements. So I suppose they plan on staying a while."

"Send me the recording."

"Emailing it right now." Her friend confirmed. "What's with these guys anyways? Why're you looking for them?"

"Guys? Hold on how many did you say they were?" Naomi grabbed her notepad again.

"Two guys."

"Could you describe them? Was there a blonde?" Naomi demanded. There wasn't supposed to be anyone with Mello. Gareth's words automatically repeated themselves in her head.

… _finding_ _ **them**_ _shouldn't be so hard…_

"I think so, yeah. I just saw the Nissan and pressed record that's all."

"You're sure it's the same car?" She pressed. "Check again."

"I'm looking right at it, girl, and I'm telling you it's just as you described. It's got the same number plate and everything."

Naomi frowned.  _Does Gareth know something? If so is he keeping it from just me or Kai as well?_

"Just give me the address and send me the recording."

_I need to tell Kai._

* * *

_**M's Computer. Date: 11** _ _**th** _ _**May 2009.** _

_It's been a while, hasn't it? I just haven't had a chance or good reason to write._

_He's lying next to me right now. His arm is around my waist, hair tickling my side. He looks so peaceful, so beautiful. Who is he? He's Mail Jeevas…Matt. And if you could see me now you'd know I'm smiling just as I type his name._

_These chocolate condoms are good shit. I like them._

_I hope I need not say more. A boy in the same bed as me, his arm around my waist, and chocolate flavored condoms….you do the deduction._

_Are you done? I hope you are._

_He's something really…I take back everything I said about him. He's honey and I'm a bee. He's the sand and I'm the sea. Oh wow….rhymes…I don't think I'm amused. Shit…I remember love did come with awfully embarrassing things like poetry and finding the stupidest things cute and a head full of mush, etc…I suppose I'll have to put up with that foolishness….this seems to be worth it._

_Anyways, he's fascinating….not in the way he makes love…'cause quite frankly he didn't have to do much. And we didn't really make love… It's other things. It's the way his eyes were on my face, not my body. It's the fact that he didn't shove his cock down my throat, didn't yank at my hair, didn't make a fuss about the condom being in the way. It's how he didn't look like a disgusting pervert. He looked hot…just hot…in the most beautiful way possible. But I wonder what he'd look like when he's actually being naughty…like when he's feeling dirty._

_I can barely believe I'm thinking this. I thought this part of me was gone, dead with my love for Gareth. But no…we aren't going to talk about that tonight. Tonight everything will be about Matt._

_He has uprooted me, taken me away from where Gareth had left me. We've been on the road since and I already feel like I'm being slowly healed. It's a painful nerve-wrecking process but it's going to be worth it._

" _Take it one step at a time." He says. But now…after tonight…I don't think I can hold back. Fear will still be here but I think I'm already there…..not falling for him…..but already fallen._

**Moral: Only time and love can mend a broken heart.**


	15. Knight of Shining Lies

**Date: 11** **th** **May 2009. Time: 9:30am.**

Naomi Misora paced in front of Kai's office feeling very much like an angry cat waiting for her owner to get home and feed her, ready to pounce and bite fingers the second she had the chance. Her anger wasn't misplaced, as her superior,  _head of the department_ , she thought rolling her eyes, was half an hour late for work. But that wasn't the only reason she was welling up with bitterness. She had spent all night trying to reach Kai on his phone but it always went to voicemail and she just couldn't understand how a person with such an important job could be so careless.

So she paced, fidgeting with her phone, sending angry text messages to her friend every now and then to check on Mello.

The reply sounded on her mobile immediately.

_They're still at the motel._ The message read.  _I'm telling you, move fast. You're lucky they've stuck around for so long._

The sigh that left her was almost a growl. But the pacing wasn't entirely in vain for she had entertained quite a number of thoughts in her head and had found the conclusion to at least one of her problems.

She had resolved to keep out any mention of the other guy Mello was with from the conversation she was going to have with Kai. Initially she had felt it was her duty to inform him, do things by the book, as required of her. But with Kai constantly letting her down all night, a little seed of rebellion had taken hold inside of her. It didn't make a big rebellion. A big rebellion would've been to make a move without informing Kai about anything. That would be directly against the orders she was given. But she was, as of yet, not bold enough to do that, nor did she have a reason big enough.

Her little rebellion would make no difference though. She could easily apprehend both Mello and whoever he was with so long as she had just one other partner just to even out the odds. When and if asked she could say that she didn't know Mello was with someone else. And that'd be the end of that. It wasn't anything substantial but she felt it'd ease her soul a little if she caused some small amount of misery for the head of her department.

Sometimes she envied the private detectives of old. True, most of the jobs they got weren't all that serious but whatever jobs they got, they executed with style, back when they were still in business that is. She herself had once considered becoming one but when she was in training the media had already turned on the private detectives and instead of writing them as heroes they wrote them off as shady psychos who'd kill their own mothers for money or an interesting case. And that had, with time, changed her perspective of them.

She had personally been part of the operation to apprehend the last of the private detectives and when she had finally managed to get ahold of the last one she had asked him why he didn't just join the police force. "We need people like you on our side." She had told him.

"No." He had said. "We're already on the same side. Then why would they want to shut us down? That is the question."

"If we're on the same side then why don't you join us?"

"Simple." He had said, hunching his shoulders and rubbing a thumb against his pale lips. "The police force is full of incompetent fools."

She had felt enraged. This man, this amateur had the audacity to look down on her. He had looked nothing like a professional and Naomi had doubted that he had even a vague understanding of social norms. He had eyes black as coal, skin pale like paper and the bags under his eyes were proof of lack of sleep. Naomi remembered staring hard at him, following the crumpled old blue jeans he had on and the white shirt that seemed like he'd owned it for decades. Why he wouldn't take a good job with a good salary instead of suffering his tattered battered state was beyond her. They had even given him a choice: work under the police department or go to prison. He had chosen prison and it had amused her so that he had barely lasted a month in there before he went back on his word and chose to work for the investigation department instead.

"Prison didn't do very well with me, I'm afraid." He had said. Naomi had wanted to laugh but he had been more hunched, more pale, more tattered than she had remembered and she had pitied him instead.

He had been given the lowest or jobs in the department: paperwork. She had felt sorry for him. It wasn't long before he had messed everything up and they had fired him and that had made Naomi feel even worse. There was once a time when everyone knew his name, when he was a reputable and respected person that people went to for help. Now he was no one. Despite that he didn't seem very upset about it.

She had watched as he waited, seated on the marble steps outside their building waiting for a car to pick him up for the last time. He looked like a child after school, waiting alone for his parents to come and get him and she hadn't been able to resist saying her final goodbyes.

"So what're you going to do now?" She had asked.

"A little bit of this and a little bit of that."

_That isn't an answer._

"Well, you can call if you ever need the job again." She told him.

He sat there on the steps, thumb against lip like he always did, staring wide-eyed at absolutely nothing. Sometimes Naomi thought he could see things no one else could. But that was ridiculous.

As a black Royce pulled in and he left his seat on the stairs, Naomi stopped feeling too sorry for him. Clearly the man came from a rich background. He was going to do just fine without his job. He pulled out a card from his pocket and held it out to her.

"If you ever need anything, just give me a call." He said and Naomi reluctantly took the card.

_What would I need from you?_  She thought.  _A loan?_

Naomi snapped out of her thoughts as the sounds of brisk footsteps drew closer and Kai appeared around the corner.

"Sir?" She straightened her back and tried to keep annoyance out of her voice. "I found Mello."

"Good!" He smiled and sipped at his coffee. "Where?"

"Sir, I don't think there's time for talking." She said as he walked by her and turned the handle of the door to his office. "If you would just give me one partner, I'll be good to go."

He stopped in his tracks and turned around, a practiced empathetic look on his face. "No, Naomi." He said. "We need to plan before we make a move and I need to think about it before I send you in."

"You don't understand." She smiled at him, a little grin to wash down the annoyance. "Mello has been at a motel for hours. He'll be leaving any minute now. We need to move in fast or we'll lose him."

He rubbed his temples. "It is my job to decide what needs to be done and it is your job to do it." He frowned. "Now, where is he?"

She handed him the piece of paper where she had noted down the motel address.

"Good." He said with a wide smile. "How did you manage this anyway?"

"Traffic surveillance cameras."

"Okay, now I've got some more research for you to do." He said, handing her a file. "I received this case file just now. I want you to go over and tell me what you think. Do some basic search and narrow down suspects while you wait for orders on the Mello case."

"Sir, but we haven't got much ti-"

"What's the hurry Naomi?" He glared. "The boy, Matt, he's dead. And there isn't anywhere this Mello can run. We know the car he's in. So you can get to this" he pointed at the file in her hands "and wait for orders."

Naomi's hand curled into a ball but she swallowed her pride and left Kai's office.

Sometimes she envied the private detectives of old.

* * *

**Time: 10am**

Matt almost heard the cold hard tiles crack his jaw, violently waking him. Before he could register what had happened to him and why he had fallen face first onto the floor, he felt a hand roughly turn him over and slap him across the face.

"Wake up!" He heard Mello yell at him. "What is with you!?"

"Jesu-fuck! Mello!" Matt roughly brushed Mello's hands away. "Stop that!"

He blinked his eyes open, wincing at the light.

"It's ten!" Mello whispered threateningly, his eyes wide as plates. "We're late."

Matt shrugged as he watched Mello throw his laptop and other little things back into his bag. He lazily wondered why Mello was in such a hurry.  _They won't catch us._  He thought to himself.  _Mello is acting like we've still got them on our tail. There's nothing though._

As he clambered to his feet he recalled Mello waking him up with a kiss the night they had curled up in the backseat of the car. He laughed silently at the thought.

"Clearly the honeymoon period is over." He thought out loud.

"What?" The Mello that turned to look at him had something wild, almost crazy about his eyes. And Matt thought it best to back down but before he could say a word the blonde put a palm up to his face. "Wait, no. I don't care what it is." Mello threw Matt's pants at him. "Put your pants on and get us some breakfast."

Matt playfully wrapped the pants around Mello's hips, pulling the blonde closer to him. "Calm down, Mellz." He whispered softly against his cheek, planting a kiss.

Mello's small back seemed to relax a bit against his touch, but he pushed Matt away by the shoulders. "It's ten in the morning, Matt." He tried to reason. "We're so late. We can't let them catch up to us. This slacking is going to get us caught. And we're not going to get a second chance, believe me."

Matt smiled at him. He felt like he liked it when Mello worriedly tried to explain things to him, with soft urgency in his voice, like he needed Matt to understand and agree. The blue in his eyes seem to calm down, like still water in a lake.

"Right okay." He said pulling his pants on, watching the blonde resume his hurried packing. "I'll be back soon. What do you want for breakfast?"

Mello's back was towards Matt but he could feel the rage in the way he straightened his naked back. The blonde turned around. His eyes narrow with annoyance.

"Matt, we don't have time for this and I need a shower. Can you please just use your head for once? Do I have to draw out everything for you? Would you like a map to the store or do you want me to hold your hand while you cross the road? Would you like me to make you a bottle of milk as well? Maybe change your diapers while I'm at it?"

"Chocolate it is then." Matt decided, pulling the door open.

"Wait!" Mello called, annoyance still rich in his expression. He handed Matt a gun. "Just in case."

His lips met with Mello for a short instant but it was enough to make his knees weak. He grinned, shoving the gun in his back pocket and left for the store. There was nothing that could bring him down today, not his almost broken jaw, not Mello, not the clumpy gun under his shirt cold against his skin and weighing him down, not some ass somewhere out there waiting to catch him and Mello. It was a good day…..because it had been a good night.

_The best._ He told himself.  _The very best._ He could almost feel the skip in his step and the pain in his cheeks from smiling, or maybe that was where he'd hurt his jaw. He couldn't tell but he could tell that he didn't care.

* * *

**Time: 10:30am.**

Mello had never in his life taken lesser time in the shower, not even the time he cleaned himself in the lavatory of that diner. There was something in his chest that kept him on his toes. Every little noise made him feel like he was seconds away from getting caught. And he was so anxious that he jumped at the sound of his own footsteps.

_Anxiety._ He told himself angrily.  _That's all it is._

But the fear in his head and the thumping of his heart was too real to ignore.

He had woken up next to Matt, wanting to curl around him and fall back to sleep. He even recalled having a smile on his face when he had woken up.

All that had slipped from him when realized the sun was blazing through the thin cheap stained curtains of the motel window. In all the times he had run away from the Greys he had never before been this careless about time. Time wasn't money. Time was his life. The lesser he had of that, the more confident he could be that he would either meet with another violent showdown ending in Gareth treating him much more cruelly than he had before or death, simple as that. And why something so crucial and important slipped his mind so easily was entirely beyond him.

Part of him wanted to blame love, or whatever it was that he felt for Matt. The disease seemed to slow him down, make him oblivious to the utter danger he was in, the danger Matt was in. And though that could be a good thing in small doses, it really was going to be the death of him.

He dried himself down, roughly scrubbed his wet hair and, hanging the towel back up began to ease himself into his leather. As he zipped up his vest he heard Matt return from the store, banging the door shut on his way in.

_Thank goodness!_ He thought, ready to leave the motel behind and catch up on wasted time.

Grabbing his gloves he stepped out of the bathroom.

"Hello, Mello."

The voice stopped him dead in his tracks. His eyes were the size of planets. It wasn't Matt's voice, too coarse to be so, too heavy, too thick. He knew the voice. He stepped reluctantly forward to look. He knew that face.

_This is it._ He thought.  _This is how I die._

* * *

"Sharon, hun?" Naomi spoke lazily into the phone. "Could you continue to redirect those video feeds to my computer."

"I can do this, forever." Her friend answered. "But if I get caught I swear I-"

"No one's going to catch you. You work for the traffic department for crying out loud."

"Hey! Don't look down on me! Not everyone wants to stare at gory pictures in a case file all their lives and die of gunshot wounds, or worse."

"I know, hun. I know." Naomi assured the other woman. "I'm just irritated. Kai gets on my nerves, I swear."

She watched her computer flicker on. The screen was divided into several smaller panels. Each showed her different angles of the same view of the motel. She stared at the door where she had watched Mello disappear with his companion. She waited.

"Kai has me researching another case while I'm on a case." She pouted. "I don't think he gets how easy it'd be to get to Mello right now. It just doesn't feel right."

"So you've decided to do this on your own."

"No! I just-" Naomi frowned, searching for the right words. "I just need to do this right. I don't understand anything about this case. This guy, Matt, appears and disappears into and out of existence. Even if he was an orphan, there needs to be proper paperwork on him but there simply isn't. He gets killed on stage but the body gets taken away by another person without a name or record and now suddenly there's another person with Mello who we had no idea existed in the first place. It's just really odd. Why would Mello need a dead body and who is this other guy with him? What happened to Matt's body? No one has found it yet."

"It's interesting. I get it." Sharon mumbled but Naomi could tell she had stopped paying attention a while back.

Naomi, phone still pressed to her face, looked casually at the video feeds, all showing different angle of the outside of the same motel. It was mostly as generic as any other motel, plain white doors, plastic gold painted numbers on them. Mello had disappeared into room number sixteen. The door to the room was above ground level, with metal stairs, painted white, leading down to the parking lot, where the stolen car stood patiently. The door still stood shut. And it had been shut the same way for a while. There was a window next to the door that had its curtains pulled since the moment they stepped in and had stayed that way all night. There wasn't any movement at all and hadn't been for hours from the looks of it, nothing different besides an addition and subtraction of cars. She stared for a while, hoping for a sign.

"What if they've already left?" She asked. "Were you paying attention?"

"No," Sharon answered. "But their car is still there."

"It's just that they haven't-"

Naomi stopped mid-sentence and squinted at the window. Was it the feed messing up or had the curtain moved a little?

She got her answer instantly when the curtain moved some more, pushing slightly to the side. It stayed there. She decided something was keeping it there but she couldn't make out what it was.

_Maybe he's peeking to check if the coast is clear?_ She thought.  _But it can't take that long to peek._

"Sharon," She said urgently into the phone. "I'll have to call you back."

For a second she debated racing her car down to where the motel was. But she decided not to. It'd be too long before she reached the scene and she couldn't afford to not know what happened. It was now more important to keep her eye on things.

* * *

"So you found me." Mello spoke through clenched teeth, trying to keep his voice as calm as he could. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, his knees close to giving in, and his back going cold, like all the blood and life had been sucked from it. But his chin was held higher than it usually was. There was nothing to lose. He could die here but at least he'd have died trying.

Gurren was seated on the bed, his back against the head rest, right where Matt had been lying last night. Mello could still tell where Matt had dug his nails, at which spot he had accidentally bumped his head when he had writhed in pleasure. He could, if he tried, convince himself that Gurren wasn't there and Matt was still lying in bed fast asleep.

Mello frowned, thinking of Matt, out there, buying chocolate for him. He thought of what it'd be like if Matt walked in to find him lying here in cold blood. He thought of what it'd be like if Matt walked in before they left. He thought of Matt in his stead, lying on the bed, the sheets painted red with his blood, the stench of rust thick in the room.

Mello's mouth twisted.

_There's always something to lose._ He told himself, looking around the room at the other occupants.

Two of Gurren's men were in the room, new faces Mello didn't know.

_Mistake number one._ Mello thought.  _Bringing inexperienced new blood to kill me._

He was a little rusty, he knew. Selling drugs didn't often end in fist fights but he had to try. But the boys were clearly fresh at this, probably some poor lads that just got stuck being born in the wrong part of the town, probably had debts, maybe even family to look after. But they looked tough as they always do when they're too young and they haven't seen anything of the world, but think they've seen it all. It showed in the way they stood, in their eyes, in the way they carried themselves. There was empty pride. Mello frowned. He'd once been just that. But today, if he had to, and he did, he'd kill them without a thought. When it came down to simply living or dying, winning or losing, the choice was never difficult.

One of the men – no – boys Gurren had brought with him leaned against the window, pushing the curtain slightly out of the way, so there was a little gap. Mello tried not to smirk.  _Amateur._  Anyone looking in would be able to see him.  _Matt would notice._

The other boy leaned against the wall next to the bed, right next to where Gurren had seated himself.

"We knew we'd find you." Gurren said. "Where's Matt?"

"Dumped him when I had the chance." Mello leaned against the wall opposite to the bed. "Did you really think I'd keep him around? He was just a means to an end."

His voice was so cold and calm that he himself had to wonder if he was afraid at all. But in any case, keeping a calm front was important, even if he could feel the heat in his nape, his heart in his chest, the dryness in his mouth.

"Really?"

Mello weighed his situation. Three to one was difficult. Even if the boys were rather green and knew nothing of Mello, they would be warned. Mello, however, knew even lesser about them. They could, possibly, underestimate him. "Just a little whore. Look at how small he is", they'd think. But it was still three to one. And Mello didn't have his gun. He mentally tried to figure out where Gurren would have tucked his own gun. He scanned Gurren's greasy sharp face. He was dressed sharply in dull beige dress pants, a black dress shirt and a beige coat.

_Probably in his coat on the left hand side._ Mello thought to himself trying to recall whether or not Gurren was right handed. Now the trouble was reaching it fast enough that the others wouldn't have time to react.  _Impossible._ He told himself. He needed a distraction.

"Something tells me you haven't dumped him yet." Gurren said with a smile.

"Really?" Mello smiled, stepping cautiously closer just to see what would happen. The guy by the window cocked his gun. Mello, noticing this, stopped in his tracks but refused to acknowledge the boy further than that. "What tells you that?"

"This." Gurren held up a little shiny square wrapper, bent as though there had been a ring in it, chocolate brown in color and ripped. The silver durex logo stared back at him. Mello's smile faded. "So you still like it like that, huh? A whore can't lose his habits, can he?" Gurren asked, standing up.

Mello stepped backwards and against the wall like a threatened cat, claws out and ready to find his chance to run. His skin tingled with fear. He ignored it. His heart hammered in his chest. He ignored it as well.

"Maybe you could give me some of that as well?" Gurren thrust his pelvis forward, making a shaking gesture with his fist.

"Step back Gurren." He warned as the man continued to walk towards him.

"Or what?" Gurren laughed, baring his teeth, browned by an excess of cigarettes. "You'll bend over for me?"

Mello found himself moving further back along the wall, towards the bathroom. The boy that had been leaning against the wall next to the bed had clambered over the bed and towards him.

For a moment Mello considered locking himself in the bathroom and finding his way out from there. It was better than facing three at the same time. But he'd have to stick around for Matt and what if he doesn't find Matt in time? No, he couldn't risk that.  _Or I could take my chance by kicking this guy in the chin?_  He thought, glancing at the boy next to Gurren. His head twisted slightly.  _He does seem to have a weak jaw._

Mello rushed towards the men, kicking Gurren harshly in the knee with one foot and then the other man on the jaw with the other. But before he knew it, Gurren had grabbed his arm. There was a sharp pain in his arm as the man twisted it behind his back and shoved his face into the bed. His breath left him, muffled into the sheets.

"Quit squirming, you little shit!" Gurren pressed his knee into Mello's back. "Seth go look for the other guy."

Mello looked up as the guy by the window left the room to go search for Matt.

_No! No! Not him!_

"I don't know why you even bothered, Mello." Gurren's breath was hot against Mello's nape. It made him shudder, like he had gulped some odd tasting medicine. "You knew we'd find you. We always do. Now it's going to be your fault he dies. I wonder if Gareth would want you to die or live with that weight on your conscience. Charles wants you dead but - god! - I wish Gareth'd keep you. At least till we've had some fun."

Mello felt his body go cold, his eyes shut tightly, a million and one thoughts raced around in his brain and he tried to slow himself down.

"Gurren!" He yelled, the side of his face pressed against the mattress. "I can make a deal with you. Let go off my arm and let's talk."

He heard the man cackle. It wasn't going to work and he knew it.

"You can hold me at gun point but just listen." Mello tried reasoning despite himself. "I want to go see Gareth. I'll go with you. I'll cooperate, I swear. Just listen to me."

He was bluffing at this point, anything to buy himself some time. The man just laughed. Mello's eyes shot wildly around the room, looking for clues, help, instructions, inspiration, anything.

"Matt is a hacker!" He yelled. "A hacker! He can get you into whatever system you want! He will be of so much use to Gareth. Believe me, Gareth will want him on the same team and he does drugs anyway. He'd probably break easy."

He felt Gurren's shoulder push further into his spine.

"N-n-okay! Okay! Think about it this way Gurren. Matt is a hacker and he can get you into whatever you want. You can steal from Gareth and Charles. You can be stronger. People would already be questioning their authority. Lots of other families are probably looking at this as a chance to make them look bad. Their time is coming to an end and you know it, specifically with this. Take the opportunity." The knee between his shoulder blades seemed to ease a bit. "You know that I can do things for you too. Take me and Matt under you. Matt could help you steal from them and I could kill them for you. You know I can do it. You don't want to be the underdog forever. I know it."

The knee on his shoulder blade lifted much to his surprise. He hadn't expected that to work but it had and he was glad he tried. Mello had to stop himself from smiling.

At once Mello twisted around, slipping his hands into Gurren's jacket and pulling out his gun.

He clambered away, back against the floor, like a cockroach on its back, kicking at the floor. The gun pointed firmly at Gurren.

"You gullible little shit." He laughed, glancing at the other boy with Gurren, who, busy nursing his jaw, hadn't had the time to pull out his gun. "Hands in the air, you." He said. His back hurt from having to look at the men from the floor and between his knees but it'd have to do. He raised an eyebrow at the boy and watched as he slowly raised his hands.

He wondered for a second if Matt was alright. He had to make sure. But one wrong move and he could be dead. He considered standing up, weighing whether it'd be possible to do so without giving the men an opening.

Mello had barely reached a conclusion when the door swung open. The boy's hands fell fast to his sides and Mello's finger squeezed around the trigger. Blood splattered against the wall, the boy's blown head splattered and slipped noiselessly against the plastic wallpaper as his body slipped to the floor but Mello barely waited for it to drop before another bang woke the room. More blood painted the walls, little chunks of white clinging momentarily to the walls before they slipped down. Gurren fell to his knees and inclined, wide eyed, towards Mello, blood dripping down his face. Mello's boot met his face and he kicked Gurren away from himself.

"What? Mello?"

There was such horror in Matt's voice that Mello immediately regretted having to do this in front of him. But there wasn't time to let the shock set in.

Mello was already clambering over the bed, grabbing their bags and Matt by the arm.

"Run." He said urgently, grabbing their bags and throwing them over his shoulder. "Get to the car, Matt. Gun out. There's another one out there."

Matt couldn't take his eyes off the mess in the room.  _The same room._ He thought.  _Is this the life I opted for? Did I opt for all my favorite memories to have blood smeared on them?_

"MATT!" Mello yelled at him, slapping him hard across the face. "Do you want to end up like that?" He gestured at the bodies in the room and Matt immediately felt his stomach twist. Suddenly he could think of a million things he wanted to do, things that involved Mello, things that didn't, things he should have done, everything. He rushed out of the room, pulling the gun out from under his shirt. He turned the safety off and rushed downstairs.

He could hear Mello's footsteps behind him. He wanted to take Mello's hand but that was one hand less to hold the gun he had never fired before, and he had read something about recoil being a massive bitch somewhere.

Suddenly he was a wild animal and survival was the only thing on his mind, not love, not Mello, nothing. "We" became "I" so suddenly it shocked him. A million thoughts buzzed in his mind some of them so close to betraying Mello that he felt his stomach twist harder with guilt. He glanced back at Mello to make sure he was there even though he could clearly hear the footsteps. The blonde was behind him, walking backwards, his hand on Matt's jacket.

Mello glanced at Matt.

"Keep looking forward." He instructed. "I've got your back."

Matt looked away, more out of guilt than out of obedience. Mello's hand on his shoulder became foreign somehow, like something he had cheated to get. He disgusted himself, but he kept moving forward, his legs moving without his consent.

And then he heard it from behind him. The clank of shoes against metal as someone came running from behind. He wanted to turn but his instinct was to run as hard and as fast as his body would allow. Fortunately for him though Mello seemed to share his instinct. The blonde was pushing at this shoulder to get him to run. Matt heard a gunshot but never looked back. For a second he wondered if it had killed Mello, but the hand on his shoulder told him otherwise and something inside him told him he wouldn't stop even if he heard Mello drop dead. The thought hammered his heart into a pitiful chunk of meat.

How Matt managed to reach the car was entirely beyond him but once he was there in the car he found himself start it before Mello had the chance to sit beside him. The car screeched as he pulled it out of the parking space. He drove onwards. Mello kept looking back to check if they were being followed. They weren't. There was another gunshot but it missed them by a mile. Clearly Mello had failed to kill the last guy.

_I can't feel my legs._ Matt thought. _I can't feel my hands…._

But he could still feel the weight of the gun on his lap and the pitiful chunk of meat he used to call a heart.

* * *

The phone was pressed against Naomi's ear as she craned her neck to make sure Kai couldn't see her.

"Sharon?" she whispered. "I want you to keep a few cameras on the car. Follow it and I want to watch where they go."

"Got it."

Just as the phone clicked shut, through a window in Kai's office, Naomi watched as Kai picked up a call, paced around in his room, yelled into the phone and slammed it shut.

Naomi felt her heart race. She barely understood what was going on but there was definitely something suspicious about it.

She watched as Kai grabbed his coat and left his office.

_He never leaves on his own if he can send people._ She thought. Without wasting a second she was jogging to catch up to him.

"Sir!" She called out. He slowed his pace considerably. "I looked through the file you asked. I have a report. I was wondering if you'd let me go catch Mello now."

The man's jaw clenched. "I just received a call saying they checked out. Maybe I should've sent you earlier."

Naomi slowed down and came to a halt, staring at her superior's back as he hurried away. " _Them" again?_ She thought.  _And checked out did they?_

She was Alice, finding that the rabbit hole was much deeper than she'd expected.

* * *

Mello yanked at his seat belt as the car swiveled at a turn screeching so loud it was a surprise friction hadn't caused the tires to explode yet. But Mello could swear he could smell burnt rubber. He shot a look at Matt wondering why he let him drive. Matt's hands gripped at the steering wheel so firmly it was like he was a built in feature that came with the car. His face had a rigid frown like he'd been sculpted in stone. The pale grey bloodless color of his face didn't help.

Mello wondered how to comfort him, or if he should be comforting him at all.

"Matt, slow down." He said as calmly as he could manage, trying to feign control over their situation to give Matt a fake sense of calm.

His own heart was racing too but he figured he was doing much better than Matt. Moreover, much of his own worry had little to do with the blood and chunks of brain on the walls and more to do with how insanely fast Matt was driving, or more accurately not knowing how to help Matt deal.

"It's okay, Matt. You can slow down now." He repeated.

The car's speedometer was beeping insanely for Matt's attention. Mello glanced at it trying not to acknowledge the numbers the needle pointed at.

"Matt?" He placed a hand on Matt's shoulder. Matt jumped out of his skin, yanking at the steering wheel harder than he should have. The car screeched and swiveled and for a second Mello felt that was the biggest mistake he had made all day. His nails sank into Matt's shoulder, his other hand slapped onto the window in a worthless attempt to brace himself for a crash. Matt yanked the car back into control, panting once he felt like he had his reigns on it.

Mello kept his hand on Matt's shoulder, more out of shock than out of care.

"Slow down, Matt." He repeated, this time angrily.

Matt slowed the car down, pulling over by the road. He was wheezing. His eyes were wide. The stone he seemed to be a second ago cracked.

_He's shaking._  Mello noticed wondering if he had looked as petrified the first time he'd seen a dead body.  _This is a little different though. He isn't the one that pulled the trigger._

"Matt, it's fine." Mello told him firmly. "You're fine."

Matt, look at me." Matt met his eyes hesitantly, like he was afraid to see someone else there. His head felt like it was clamped in metal slowly crushing his skull. His eyes felt like they were just about ready to pop out of his sockets.

He realized he was scared. It felt like the weight of his choice was suddenly crashing down on him, crushing his skull. Had he even given this enough thought? Could he really cope with this? How did Mello paint the walls with two men and not feel a thing? He could hear the sound of gunshots in his head, see the red on the wallpaper as clearly as it was still there every time he blinked. He remembered standing there thinking about how it looked so unreal and a lot like a game. He remembered not caring about Mello for a second.  _Do I even love him?_ He thought.  _Who is he anyway? Am I really so willing?_

Seeing death painted on walls was a lot different from downing an excess of pills. He wondered if he had been so love drunk to not realize what lay ahead. He trusted Mello, that much he knew. He had trusted Mello enough to be sure Mello would be there in time to revive him when he had passed out, on the brink of death by overdose.

But he didn't trust himself enough. He didn't think he could do what Mello could do for him. He was a dead weight, waiting to bring Mello down. Mello had always been right about him. He was nothing but an overconfident brat.

He had after all been so confident that he somehow could make Mihael's life better, give him whatever happiness he could. But who did he think he was? Some knight in shining armor he turned out to be. One little taste of what Mello's world really was like and his instinct was to ditch all and run.  _Spoilt little rich boy._

"Matt, answer me!" Mello shook him by the shoulders. "Do you understand?"

Matt nodded having no idea what he had agreed to.

"Okay good." Mello said. "Now tell me what I just said."

Matt stared at him blankly. His forehead wrinkled in worry, lips split but no words came out. He could feel tears in his eyes but he didn't know what he was crying for. There was a lump in his throat. He wanted to hide from Mello, lie to him so that he'd never know that he, Matt, preferred himself over Mello. Why had he ever thought he was cut out for this? What was he thinking?

Mello sighed, worry in his eyes. He took Matt's face in his hand, thumb caressing Matt's soft pale cheeks. "Matt, listen. I'm sorry you had to see that. I really am. But I want you to know it was either their brains on the walls or ours. I did what I had to. You know that right?"

"M-Mello…I…" His voice trailed. All the stories of love giving you courage were either lies or Matt was too selfish to have them apply to him. "I know." He whispered. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Mello's eyes were the size of plates, but his voice was laced with sweet worry, worry that Matt didn't feel he deserved. It his heart like sharp pins.

Matt looked around, trying to find a way to say it. He couldn't , wouldn't, find one. How could he tell Mello that? How could he tell him that he lied, that he didn't care as much as he had thought he did? "F-for the crappy driving." He lied. His lip shivered and he could feel every pore of his body ooze sweat.  _Can he see the lie in my eyes?_ He wondered.

"Shut up." Mello's voice was calm. His lip curled in mild annoyance. "I shouldn't have let you drive. Not after that."

Matt threw his arms around the blonde's shoulders feeling more guilty than comforted. "I was worried." He said. "I'm ashamed."

"Of what?" Mello's hands were ruffling his hair, his breath hot against Matt's neck. He kissed the brunette's neck, pressing deep against his skin so that the words of comfort that he wasn't accustomed to say would be felt in his kiss.

"I'm ashamed that I was of no use." His head hurt. He was lying so well it shocked him. He wanted himself to stop, to be able to tell the truth, but would Mello ever acknowledge him if he knew the truth? "I was worried about you."

_Liar!_  The word seemed to scream and echo inside his head.  _Liar! Liar! Liar!_

"Matt?" Mello smiled at him. "I know it's terrible to imagine, and not something I'm proud of, but this isn't my first time being in a situation like that. I'm fine. I'm really alright. I just hope you can deal with this."

Matt nodded, unable to meet Mello in the eye.  _Dead weight. Dead weight._ The words repeated in his head.  _Even he thinks you're a dead weight. Snap out of it. So you saw a little blood. Big deal! Clearly you would've spilled some to save your own pathetic life. Mello wouldn't understand. He sees you as a dead weight too. Toughen up, will you? How do you expect to help him if you can't help yourself?_

"Do you want me to drive?" Mello asked, leaning in for a kiss. Matt winced at the feel of his lips.  _I can drive._ He thought.  _I'm not crippled._

He revved up the engine and steered the car back onto the road, gut still in knots, heart heavier than it had been minutes ago.

**Moral: It takes two people to create a successful relationship. It only takes one person to make it fail.**


	16. Meet the Roadie

**Date: 12** **th** **May 2009. Time: 4:20am.**

It frightened Mello how deadly heavy a silence could feel. But it was definitely not his first experience with it. He had often had the chance to appreciate the weight of his actions for a couple of moments before he pulled a trigger, snapped a neck or swiftly penetrated a body with a cold sharp blade at just the right spot. There was something almost poetic about those silences, an impending doom hanging over his victim's shoulders. And more often than not, in those moments, he allowed himself to fantasize that he wasn't himself. That Mello was a dangerous wild monster that crept up to people in the dead of the night slaughtered them mercilessly and slipped into the darkness. And all the while he pictured a strange creature, leaning over Mello's shoulder, whispering commands into his ear. Funnily enough the creature made no noise when it spoke, it spoke in silence, silence that weighed a ton, and yet Mello, the monster, understood it perfectly and obliged, but only to stop the silence.

The silence Mello felt in the car, that morning, was little like that. In fact, if it hadn't been for the sudden remembrance of the fact that he was used to being on the giving end of the transaction, he'd never have compared it to the same silence at all.

But, staring at the shaking barrel of the gun that pointed shamelessly between his eyes, he wondered, for a moment, if this was indeed it, the end of his life. His eyes fell, from the familiar well-loved face of the boy holding the gun, to the shaking cold hands that held the gun and the moment was gone.

* * *

**Time: 9:35am.**

Naomi hesitated for a barely noticeable moment before pushing the cold glass door ajar. Her eyes fell on the slightly plump man on the other side of the door. He muttered quickly into the phone he was angrily speaking into, the second he noticed her, and shoved the phone into his pants' pocket.

"Hey! Naomi, right?" Larry grinned widely at Naomi, pressing a cigarette between his lips.

"That's right." She smiled and shook his hand.  _You'd think he'd remember the detective working on his case._

"I must say this is all so sudden. I'm not sure we're prepared." Larry said falling behind Naomi as she briskly walked towards the elevator. He pressed the button marked eight.

"And yet you're prepared enough to wait for me down here?" She cocked a brow. She didn't care how famous or rich this man was anymore. This case was becoming one of those things that made her wish she could directly scratch her brain. It was a pain in the ass, plain and simple, and she was tired of it already.

"I just woke the band up, but I'm afraid the twins won't be able to join you."

Naomi glowered at Larry as menacingly as she could manage. "Why not? Aren't they a part of the band?"

"They had a really late night last night-"

"Sex? Drugs? Rock 'n' Roll?"

"No! Heavens no!" The man shook his head so fast Naomi thought it'd fall right off. She gave him a taunting nod. "They were up all night practicing. So I feel its best not to disturb them. They're a floor below the rest of the band, asleep."

"Of course." Naomi smiled.

The elevator door slid open and Naomi instructed Larry to bring all the available band members to Larry's room. She waited right outside the door for them, eyes fixed on Larry like a hawk. Soon a groggy couple appeared from one of the rooms. She noted that they were both dressed, so Larry had at least had the time to inform them that she was coming over.

It had been a sudden decision. To find out what the hell was going on, she felt she needed to go to the source of the problem and the best way was to collect statements from the key witnesses, the band. She had figured out the band's location by connecting dots from Kai's files and from information she collected from journalist friend, whom she had to bribe by telling him that she'd let him run the story and give him all information pertaining the case, when she had something to go on. She didn't have to tell everything, but she could give him a little for his trouble. She had also taken precautions to make sure Kai didn't know where she was headed until she had almost reached the hotel the band was staying at. She had been a couple of minutes from there when she had called to inform Kai.

"You want to interrogate them?" Kai had sounded a little surprised, or panicked but he had collected himself quickly. "I'll arrange it with Larry, ask him where they're staying-"

"No need. I'm already here." Naomi had smiled to herself.  _For a detective you sure are slow, Kai._ "I'm like a couple of minutes away from the hotel. Wait-no. Pulling into the parking lot right now. Talk to you later, Kai."

She couldn't trust anyone but herself and she had learnt that the hard way the previous day. She still had the inkling that Kai had just been plain negligent and some people that Mello had crossed had caught up to him, but the other thought had crossed her mind as well. And why wouldn't it? She had watched the boys get attacked and escape and Kai had received information that they had left the motel, or so he had told her. And if that was indeed what he knew, then who had told him? And why had they lied?

One way or another, she only trusted herself from now on.

The couple was a girl with red hair, apparently recently dyed, Madison and a black messy spiky haired boy whose name she could barely recall from the files she had hurriedly collected the day before.

_John?..Joe?...Joey?_

As she wondered, another boy appeared in the back. He had brown hair, combed neatly, tired eyes from a lack of sleep and yet he tried not to show it, with a sly smile plastered on his smug face.

"Gareth." Naomi smiled at him.

"Naomi." He nodded. "So glad you're here."

_I'm sure you are._ Naomi thought to herself.

"Why don't you give us some space?" Naomi smiled at Larry and the man hesitantly left the four and headed towards the elevator. Naomi watched as he left, looking for signs of nervousness. The man simply smiled at her and left.

Soon she had confiscated any mobile devices the witnesses carried and separated the three from each other by locking Joey in Larry's bathroom and Madison outside the room. The three hadn't seemed very nervous about the interrogation. She guessed that was due to their drowsiness.

The room was large and large was an understatement. A queen sized four poster bed stood proudly on one end, a little further from which sat a floral sofa set made to look like it belonged to the baroque or rococo period. She could never tell the two apart. A little away from it was a large heavy wooden dining table that could seat eight people at a time. Larry's bathroom was on the other end of the room a little away from the long dining table. Joey was locked in there, far enough for there to be a safe distance without him hearing the others' answers and close enough for Naomi to keep an eye on him

Gareth sat on a cushioned floral chair, the smile still annoyingly plastered on his face. He leaned back and rested each of his arms on each armrest casually. Naomi placed a small recorder on a circular coffee table between them, herself choosing to sit on a wooden chair with a notepad in hand. The recorder was her memory, the notepad for recording information she thought would be useful instantly and also to look busy while she thought of the next question. It would've been much easier if she had at least planned what to ask, but with the hurry that she'd been in it had been impossible. She had tried jotting a few down in the car but she hadn't been able to hear herself think over the images in her head of the suspect's escape from the motel.

She remembered watching a little grey figure, that of the boy Mello was with, enter the room. He had stood stunned in the doorway for a while, only to be shaken back into action by Mello. They had made their way downstairs back to back, protecting each other, or so it seemed.

She remembered a man running at them, Mello shamelessly open firing at him, in broad daylight. But he hadn't shot until the man had pulled his gun out. If Naomi didn't know any better, she'd have thought Mello was avoiding a scene.  _After two explosions and one kidnapped dead body?_ She had thought at first. But it had looked like a desperate attempt to run away.

She had concluded that Matt's death and the unpaid debt the dead Matt still owed him and his bosses might have put Mello in some mighty fine predicament. So she had decided that it had turned into an internal affair between Mello and his bosses. Therefore, he must've been on the run which was good. Without the backup of a whole gang, she expected him to be easier to catch.

That, however, didn't explain the other boy with Mello. But she could have shrugged that off as just some guy that was important enough to Mello for him to take the guy with him. After all, even with deceit and treachery criminals managed to be fiercely loyal to people they truly cared for…or perhaps it was because of the deceit and treachery that they were fiercely loyal. Nevertheless, the despite the well-made assumptions a few questions didn't solve themselves. Why had Gareth referred to Mello as "them"? If he was indeed aware of Mello's companion then why was he not mentioning it? And if he was aware, how was he aware? Kai had made a plural of Mello, the day before, as well. And even if Gareth wasn't being straight with her, why wasn't Kai, head of Department, Kai, being clear? There were way too many questions to be asked and quite frankly her doubts all sat with Larry, Kai and Gareth. They were the ones she wanted spilling their secrets.

With that thought in mind, she prepared herself for what was to come.

"I hope you don't mind." She said curtly pressing the button to record.

"Actually, I would. I don't like my voice recorded. It sounds odd." There was a pause before Gareth laughed. "You wouldn't turn it off just because I mind it, would you?"

She kept a straight face for a bit, before cracking a forced smile that didn't reach her eyes, to make it very clear that she wasn't in the mood for games - or his charms.  _Jokes aren't going to get you anywhere._  She thought.

"So, Gareth, what do you do for the band?" She rattled the pen against her notepad.

"I'm the band's roadie." He replied without hesitation and Naomi scribbled "roadie" in her notepad. "I take care of the equipment. I take it on stage. I set it up, tune it, all that jazz."

"And you did this for Matt as well?"

"Yes." He nodded, straightening a little in his seat, making a face like he was on the verge of tears. "Matt was particularly careless with his instruments."

"How long have you been with the band?"

"Oh they hired me a little before the tour." He said. "I hadn't even heard of them before. I just ran into Larry in this store that sold instruments. He was buying things for the band."

"He was buying them?" She raised a brow, noting his answer word for word in quick shorthand. "Wouldn't it have been better if the band got that themselves?"

He paused for a bit. Naomi wrote "pause" on her notepad and circled it, just in case she'd forget. His eyes shot to his left before he replied. "D'you know what?" He smiled. "That's very good! I never even thought of that. I don't know why it was him there. I guess they were being lazy. They still are. Jerry recently broke his guitar strings and I had to go get them for him. But that's brilliant." He frowned at her in admiration, a small smile on his face. "I'd have never thought of that."

_That's a good move._ Naomi thought.  _Prevent getting caught by a mix of flattery and ignorance._

"You came to the office the other day claiming Matt had been on drugs." Naomi stated. "How do you know this?"

There was a silence in which he rubbed his palms, staring hard at them as though rubbing would bring him the answers. His eyes met hers and he swallowed hard. "He…sometimes asked me to get him some. But I mean…you won't…I won't get into trouble for it, will I?"

She shook her head, frowning at him, wondering if the sudden panic was genuine or another lie. "So long as you honestly answer the questions and aid the investigation, I'm sure we can think of a way to keep these things secret. But since you did get him the drugs, you had met his dealer?"

"I'm not proud of the hand I might have played in Matt's…passing…but yes I had met with his dealer a few times."

"And that's how you know so much about him." She scribbled in her notepad for a bit. "So why don't you tell me how Matt's relationship with his dealer was?"

Gareth went into an elaborate banter about how Matt and Mello were on good terms before Matt started getting too addicted and asked for more than he could pay for. He even recounted a few cases in which Matt had overdosed and Mello had to "save his ass", which, according to Gareth was the reason why Mello and Matt got into a lot of arguments over the time.

"So at some point, did you think Mello might become a threat to Matt's life?" Naomi asked.

"Well, he threatened him a lot, y'see." Gareth pursed his lips, eyes lowered and face contorted in pain. "I just-I never thought he was serious."

"Who else knew about this?" Naomi asked without offering to comfort. "I mean who else knew about Matt and his drug problem?"

"Joey and Maddie knew a little bit. But not as much as I do, I think."

"Convenient, isn't it?" Naomi smirked.

"I don't understand…" Gareth stuttered and blinked faster.

"The only people who know about Matt's drug problem are available for interrogation." Naomi scribbled in her notepad. "Convenient for me." She smiled at him. "Just a few more short questions, Gareth. Roughly when do you think Mello started selling Matt the drugs?"

"I wouldn't know." He said shaking his head and smiling at apologetically. "They knew each other before I was hired."

Naomi scribbled that answer down.

"But would you say he and Mello were on good terms already before you were hired?"

"Yes. Two peas in a pod."

"And roughly when did they start having problems?"

"A while after I was hired."

"And how many times had you met with Mello?"

"Only a few. Like I said, I'm not proud of it. I didn't like doing it much. I only met him like three, maybe four times."

"And yet you know enough to know that he wouldn't leave tracks and is good at hiding?"

His face changed color and Naomi had to stop herself from smiling. The problem with seeming too innocent, Naomi thought, was having to feign ignorance and when things become basic knowledge to one it's often hard to un-know it. Even harder, is to pretend to never have known it.

"I-" He said, staring blankly at his palms, frowning. "I know just what he, himself, told me."

"The suspect bragged to you about his skills at stealth?" She cocked a brow and allowed herself a little smile. "That doesn't sound like someone who is good at hiding. But that's all. Thank you so much, Gareth. You've been a lot of help. Send Madison in, will you?"

Gareth nodded politely and gathered himself up. He seemed relieved to be out of the chair he was once so comfortably leaning back in and she was glad she had managed to wipe that smile and flattery away. She watched his back as he walked away. He took one deep breath, pulled his head up high. She imagined he planned on wiping the not-so-subtle fear off his face before he exited.

"One more thing, Gareth." Naomi called after him. "What's your favorite alcoholic beverage?"

The boy looked at her confused by the question. "Scotch." He said absentmindedly and left.

Before long, Madison was sitting where Gareth had been clearly enjoying the floral patterns and the detailed polished woodwork of the chair. Naomi repeated a few questions, asked Madison about what she did in the band, how close she was with the rest, how long she'd been with them and about Matt's relationship with drugs and Mello. Madison claimed to not know any of it too well and claimed she had never seen the two, Mello and Matt, together. And just knew whatever she knew about Mello and the drugs from Gareth.

"So you didn't know Matt and Mello all that well."

"I used to think I knew Matt well." Madison took a deep drag of a cigarette. "But I guess I didn't."

"But you had seen Mello, right?"

"Oh yes." She nodded. "But only a few times and never for long."

"I thought you said you knew of him from Gareth…"

Madison smiled sweetly at her as though Naomi were a child asking too many curious questions that Madison wasn't interested in answering. "I had seen him once and I had asked Gareth who he was. That's it."

"Can you describe him for me?" Naomi asked. "I mean whatever you remember."

"Blond hair….mostly in leather…kind of good looking…twenty years old-"

"Twenty exactly?"

"Yes. I mean that's what he told us."

"I thought you said you had only seen him a few times and never for long."

For a second Naomi thought Madison was going to panic but all the girl did was meet her eye and sweat a little. "We had drinks once." She waved a hand and laughed. "Silly of me not to mention. But it was once. That's all I know of him."

"Don't worry about it." Naomi reassured. "Little slips can happen. But do you guys drink together a lot?"

"No! Like I said we had drinks with-"

"I meant you guys as in you and the band," Naomi interrupted. "excluding Mello."

"Yes. We're all very close."

"But you kept Matt's drug problem a secret from Jamie and Jerry, isn't it?"

"Yes. We didn't think they'd like it." She swallowed. "So for the sake of the band, we never told them. The tour was already on when I found out about the drug problem and you know what they say," She took another drag at her cigarette. "The show must go on."

"Of course." Naomi nodded. "Do you guys drink with Gareth as well?"

"Yes yes. He's with us all the time. Like I said, we're all very close."

"What does Gareth usually like to drink?"

"What?" Madison gave her a confused look, like she had asked her some question about math. Naomi calmly repeated her question.

"We all have beers." She answered still frowning in confusion. "We only drink beers."

Naomi scribbled in her notepad for a while. "Thank you Madison. Now if you'd be so kind to let Joey out of the bathroom and lock yourself in?"

The confused girl looked relieved to leave her presence and yet a little hesitant to leave so Naomi just smiled at her and waited for her to leave.

It wasn't long before confident black haired long legged Joey was sitting in front of her, one leg crossed over the other, hands sternly set on the ends of the arm rests like the chair was his throne. He was good looking in a tough bad boy kind of way. He was confident but not smug like Gareth. He looked at Naomi in a way that almost made her feel a little violated, even though he looked right at her eyes. Straightening herself a bit, she began asking him similar questions as she had asked the ones before him. His answers were precise and his face remained composed showing neither exaggerated expressions of care like Gareth nor Madison's nonchalance.

"When you spoke to the reporters you said you were Matt's only family." Naomi said blankly, still studying his face for a reaction, some emotion, anything. "So, considering that, would you say you were close with Matt?"

"I was. We were like brothers."

"So you knew about Matt's drug problems quite well?"

"I did."

"Didn't you think of getting him some help?"

"I did. I wanted to. But we had a tour and we didn't want any bad press for the time being. I was planning on getting him help right after."

"Bad press, of course." Naomi scribbled in her notepad. "Gareth mentioned that Matt was already experimenting with drugs before Gareth was hired and he says he was hired a little before the tour. Didn't you think it'd be best to have gotten him help beforehand or were you not aware of the problem then?"

There was a pause, a momentary one, but there was no change in his expression.

"I was a little careless. I thought all he wanted was to experiment and even though he started before the tour, he was fairly new to drugs. We had already planned the tour by then and booked the venues and no one else knew about Matt. So I felt it best to let it happen for a while, for the band. I didn't expect it to get out of control."

_Either that's the truth or he's really good at lying on his feet._ Naomi thought. "So you also knew Mello well?"

"Not well enough to know that he was capable of something like this."

"Right." Naomi scrunched up her nose. "Has anyone gotten in touch with you to ask you to settle Matt's debt?"

"No, no one." Joey straightened. "I assume Matt wasn't meant to die but seeing as Mello has managed that, I guess Mello might've gone into hiding or something."

"He's also proving to be very difficult to catch. So, tell me, how well did you know Mello?"

"I had seen him a few times. Once I stopped him from beating Matt up, something about debts. But that's it."

"Was Matt close with the rest of the band as well?"

"Like I said, we were his family."

"Are you close with everyone in the band? Like do you guys hang out at bars, drink, party and stuff?" Naomi decided to take a chance. She figured this was the only way she'd figure out whether or not Joey was lying as well.

"Yeah yeah." Joey nodded.

"What's Gareth's favorite drink?"

There was a pause again. This time however Naomi had expected there to be a pause. She simply repeated her question.

"I guess he likes hard liquor but we order a lot of different things. I've never taken much notice."

Naomi smiled and sent him off.  _Good liar._ She scribbled in her notepad.

* * *

**Time: 4am.**

"We need to come up with a plan." Mello said calmly, turning into a bend on the black asphalt shining gold in the street light, mixing with bluish silver from the coming dawn. It was a humid night from what he could tell. The air felt heavy He glanced at Matt, who hadn't so much as made eye contact with him for countless hours. "Matt, you hear me? We need to come up with a game plan."

"For what?"

Mello took a deep breath.

"For you." He said. "For us." Silence followed his words and he took another deep breath. "Matt I can help you. I know this is new for you. But we've been slacking and we could have died back there. We need to be more careful."

He waited for a response but Matt simply stared out of the window. Mello shot a glance at the rear view mirror and then at Matt, gripping the steering wheel hard in his hand. Matt's silence wasn't helping. It worried him. Whatever Matt was going through they had to deal with it and fast. Mello felt a pang of guilt.  _I should never have done this._ Mello told himself.  _I should never have brought him with me. Or I should have taken the time to prepare him._

But time was a luxury they had never had.

He sighed.

"Maybe we should take turns." He said. "When you drive I sleep. When I drive you can get some rest." He waited again. "Y'know. So we don't waste time at motels."

He felt Matt's eyes turn to him and he confirmed their presence with a glance. Mello shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. "Are you with me?"

"We won't stop at all?" Matt asked.

"We'll stop. Just not to rest and not for long." Mello said. "It's important to put some distance between them and us. I wonder how they got to us. We need to know how, to make sure we don't repeat our mistakes. Any ideas?"

Matt shook his head, looking back out of the window.

"Right." Mello nodded. "One way or another no stopping for rest from now on."

He glanced at Matt again. This time his eyes trailed to the gun in Matt's lap. It had been sitting there all day for some reason. Matt hadn't touched it, hadn't held it at all. It has just sat there, a weight on the boy's lap and Mello wondered why he hadn't put it away, despite Mello's insistence.

"I should never have given you the gun, Matt." He said, softly. "But I never expected us to need them." His eyes narrowed, pained by his own naivety. "Maybe I should have. I mean, I knew, on some level we'd need them someday. I just…thought I could delay it if I just ignored the possibility. I didn't think…I'm sorry about what you saw."

"Mello I'm not a five year old." Matt's voice was sharp, laced with anger and poison. "Stop treating me like one." Matt let out a small laugh. "Or better yet stop pestering me with your weak overdramatic tales of how hard your life has been." Matt exaggeratedly placed a hand on his chest. "Oh! The burden of taking lives without remorse! Boo! Hoo!"

Mello stared at him in disbelief, feeling a bit like he might just punch that smug freckled face, ruin it so well that Matt would never forget who he was speaking to. For a while he felt like all he heard was a faint buzz that only some of Matt's blood could rid him of. He tried to swallow it and he would've managed to if Matt had known when to stop.

"You know what?" Matt half yelled, picking up the gun. "This isn't even hard! I can do it! In fact, I could kill you if I needed to."

Something inside Mello snapped. He yanked hard at the steering wheel. The tires screeched as the car made a sudden halt by the road.

Mello turned to face Matt. His brows furrowed, lip curled. "Do it then." Matt frowned at him, rolled his eyes and looked away. "What's the matter hot shot?" Mello smirked. "What's keeping you? You got what it takes, no? Mister-I-could-kill-someone-I-claimed-to-love-a-couple-of-days-ago! Let's go then! I thought you weren't a five year old! 'Cause apparently anyone older than that is totally capable of randomly killing people, right?"

Matt pointed the gun between Mello's eyes, panting hard, teeth grit tightly together. Mello smiled wider. "Do it you little baby." He whispered.

"Mell, don't push it."

"You can't do it."

"Mello, don't fucking push me!"

Staring at the shaking barrel of the gun that pointed shamelessly between his eyes, Mello wondered, for a moment, if this was indeed it, the end of his life. His eyes fell, from the familiar well-loved face of the boy holding the gun, to the shaking cold hands that held the gun and the moment was gone.

Mello grabbed Matt's hand, eyes wide with a strange madness Matt had never before seen on his face. Matt's hands were shaking, cold and sweaty. Mello felt his anger subside just a little. Matt was terrified, of what, Mello couldn't figure out. He pulled at Matt's hand so that the barrel of the gun sat against his chest.

"Can you do it?"

"I could."

A silence filled the car, deafening them both. The world was in standstill for the most painful amount of time. Matt's hands simply shook in Mello's. His eyes were fixed on Mello's chest with aggressive concentration.

Tired of waiting for a death that wasn't going to come, Mello took another deep breath. His grip on Matt's hand eased, so did his eyebrows. The madness in his eyes slipped back behind thire covers. "You need to turn the safety off first, Matt."

Matt's hand dropped like a rock the second Mello let it go.

"Matt….What are you trying to prove?" He took Matt's pale cold face in his hands. "It's alright, baby. I can teach you."

Matt looked up at him. "Teach me to kill you?"

Mello smirked. "You won't do that."

"I might. I could." Matt frowned, not meeting Mello's eye. "How do you know I won't?"

"I don't." Mello shrugged. "But I love you…and a friend once told me that loving someone is like handing your heart to someone and telling them to hold on to it. It's a risk right?" Mello shot him a little smile.

Matt's lips quivered. He could barely recall the diner where he'd said that to Mello but he knew he had. Or was it him? Maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was some other fool who made promises without thinking. It felt like an entirely different person and he no longer knew if he was alright with the responsibility of holding onto Mello's heart. That suddenly felt like a huge burden, one he thought he was probably not ready for.

"Matt?" Mello's warm lips met his forehead. "I can teach you. Let me."

Matt's breath shook. He wasn't sure if he should learn. He was almost scared of what he might be capable of if he ended up being a good aim, what if he got used to the weight, the recoil, the sound, the blood…

He nodded. He had promised Mello that he'd be there for him. He'd promised himself he'd take care of Mello and that meant he'd have to get used to it even if he wasn't sure he could handle it.

He let the gun sit next to the gear shift and took Mello's face in his hands.

"I love you, y'know?"

"Then shut up about it and let me help you."

* * *

**Time: 11am.**

Naomi thanked Larry and the others for their time before stepping into the elevator. She pressed the button that'd take her to the ground floor and said a final goodbye. As the elevator door shut she instantly pressed the button that said seven.

_Ding!_

The doors split open and she stepped out wondering why she'd done that.

_It's obvious isn't it?_  She mocked herself.  _They gave me nothing substantial to go on._  She looked around the floor.  _Except that they were all lying._  She walked around trying to guess which one could be the twins' room.  _So, the ones that aren't supposed to know anything, the twins, might know more. Why else would Larry be so eager to separate them? Or maybe they're the only ones that'll tell the truth, regardless of whether or not they know._  One thing was for sure, they didn't know Gareth well at all. Gareth was the odd one out, despite the fact that all three of them had lied. Her suspicion of him was only increasing and massively so. He knew the most about Mello, had clearly told her the most and then tried to pretend he hadn't known. It was possible that the other two knew Mello well as well, as Madison had accidentally let Mello's age slip, but there was at least a record of Madison and Joey's long relationship with the band. Gareth was just neither here nor there.

She looked around, pressed her ear to each door. There were six rooms on the seventh floor and she decided to make her way from one to the next, pressing her ear and trying to figure out which one the twins were hiding behind.

There was mostly no sound from any of them, just muffled talking. From the last door, however, she heard a loud mocking laugh that died fast and settled to more muffled talk.

_Who's to say they're here?_ Naomi thought.  _For all I know Larry lied about that too._

She was about to walk away to try and figure out some other way to find the twins when she smelt the particularly strong smell of alcohol coming from the last room.

_It could be anyone._ She told herself. But there was little harm in trying. She straightened herself and, glancing behind herself, knocked hard. At first the muffled sounds died and there was silence. Her knuckles met the wooden white painted door again. Then she heard some rummaging, soon after which the door swung open widely and swiftly. A wide eyed boy stared at her with raised eyebrows. He gave her a once over and she opened her mouth to say something but the other inhabitant of the room spoke before she could.

"You just going to stare at her, Jaime?" He stood next to his twin. He had the same face, down to the little birthmark next to the right corners of their mouths. "Hi. I'm Jerry. This is Jaime. I hope you're not a fan-or I do hope you're a fan." He gave her an apologetic shrug. "It really depends on who you are."

"I'm a detective. Naomi Misora" She pulled out her badge and waved it in their faces. "I'm here to ask you a few questions about what happened to your bandmate, Matt."

Eyebrows still a mile above their eyes, the boys looked at each other for a while.

"Larry never-"

"I just interrogated the rest of your bandmates."

She watched as Jerry's face lost warmth but all he did was invite her in and sit her down. This room was much smaller than Larry's room. There were a couple of single beds, with a couple of bedside tables between them, the bathroom beside one of the beds and a huge window that covered the entire wall next to the other bed. By the feet of the beds was a small circular table with three chairs around it. Then there was a television and a painting hanging from the wall that was much too big for the room and only made it seem smaller. This room was also a mess, a pornographic mixing of the lavish baroque (or rococo) period with what seemed a little like early seventies rock and roll.

The twins had apparently been playing video games. There was, or what she guessed was, on one corner of the room, a very small makeshift drum kit made of shoe boxes and beer packaging, the contents of which were sitting all around the room, empty bottles lying around and a few bottles sitting on the bedside tables and the circular table. The beds were unmade. The boys' luggage was sitting by their beds, open, with a few clothes and some rather colorful underthings lying puddled on the floor.

"Pardon the mess." Jaime said casually, making no attempt to look remorseful about the mess.

She sat in a chair at the circular table and the boys sat across from her. The table between them was decorated by dead flowers, fallen petals, an overflowing ashtray, and a few old half full bottles of beer and vodka. She eyed the bottle upon which Jaime offered her a drink which she declined on account of being in the middle of a job.

She pulled out her recorder and notepad, curtly asked them if they minded it, to which the only response she received was Jerry staring at the recorder like it was a mortal enemy he was meeting again, and Jaime simply shrugging at her.

"So you interrogated the rest?" Jerry asked her sternly.

"Yes." She swallowed deciding that the best approach for this interrogation was to get right to the point. "Now you don't have to hide anything. They told me all about Matt's problem."

"Problem?" The twins asked in unison.

"The drug problem." She guessed that if they weren't aware of it, they'd be shocked if they were, then at least she'll know that they are.

She watched as Jerry tried to suppress a grin and Jaime looked at her like he was wondering what drugs she was on. "Drug problem eh?" He asked. "What else did they tell you?"

"I'm sorry but I don't think I can tell you that." She said cocking a brow. "Confidentiality and all that."

"Well in that case ask your questions." Jerry leaned back waving a loose hand in the air, while Jaime looked at her through two curious cat-like eyes.

"Right so since you didn't, before this, know of Matt's drug use, I don't suspect you know his dealer-"

"Mello." Jerry cut in. "Knew him a bit. Blond hair, wears leather most of the time, fiery temper, kind of on the sassy side."

"Good guy, overall." Jaime added.

Naomi stared for a bit.  _They do realize they're talking about the guy suspected of killing their bandmate right?_

"So you knew about Matt's drug use?"

The twins glanced at each other and then nodded at her.

"Your roadie told me-"

"Roadie?!" Jerry laughed. "I have a roadie I didn't know of?"

Naomi frowned at him, almost certain he was joking. She tapped her boot on the carpeted floor a couple of times. At least Madison, Joey and Gareth had tried to take her seriously.

"Your roadie, Gareth?" She said, looking keenly at the two.

"Gareth doesn't know shit about instruments. I'd rather throw my guitar out of a window than hand it to him and the impact from it hitting the ground would tune it better than Gareth can. He broke my strings, ending with an S. He broke all of 'em and then went and got the wrong replacements. What kind of a shitty roadie would do that? He'snot a roadie, he's a waste of space."

"But he is your roadie right?" She asked.

"Well sort of." Jaime scratched his hair. "He's new…but I'm not really sure he's a roadie."

"New?" Naomi cocked a brow. "How new?"

"Larry hired him a couple of days ago." Jerry shrugged. "Said he was a roadie. He's a bloody nightmare. And we don't need a roadie. We take care of our instruments ourselves. Don't know why Larry wants to spend extra money."

"Wait a minute, this is all very confusing for me right now."

"Yeah? Well it's a little worse for us." Jaime said frowning. "Why weren't we invited to the interrogation?"

"Good question" Jerry said bumping his brother's shoulder and then turning his attention towards Naomi.

"Larry said you were asleep, late night or something."

The twins just looked at each other for a while, making Naomi unbearably uncomfortable. It was like they knew something and could communicate it to each other and she was simply left out of the conversation. She decided she liked looking at the twins but not talking to them.

"We didn't do much last night." Jerry said.

"Receptionist is my alibi." Jamie said, poking the table with a finger. "I was flirting with her last night."

"Quit showing off! You didn't get any."

"Well, I still might!"

"Not if I make her think I'm you!"

For a while Naomi, hand against forehead, watched the boys bicker in confusion until she felt she'd had enough. She slammed her palms against the table.

"Do you both realize that this is a serious matter?"

"Yes." They replied nodding in unison.

"Your bandmate, Matt, a friend, I'm guessing, is dead." She watched the two but nothing on their face showed a shred of sadness. "Now, I need you to help me. None of your bandmates are being honest with me. Be honest with me and aid my investigation and I won't have to charge you for withholding information useful to the investigation and hindering my work. Behave like the rest of your bandmates and when I get to the bottom of this and find Mello, and I will, you will all be charged with having a part in Matt's death."

The twins registered her words with grave expressions. They didn't glance at each other this time, simply stared at the table, biting their lower lips.

"I hear you." Jerry broke the silence. "And I know you're merely trying to get to the bottom of Matt's death. And we thank you for that. Matt is-" He stopped himself as though he'd said it by accident but she had a feeling he meant to make the mistake. There was no pain on his face, not even an apologetic look. He merely glanced at his brother and went on. "-was a very good friend of ours, the best actually. But the only help I can give you is by telling you that you're looking at this the wrong way."

"What?!" Naomi was just about ready to lecture the overgrown rather good looking boy a thing or two about manners before he spoke again.

"The people who lied to you just now are also the ones told you that Mello was the person responsible for killing Matt." Jerry played with the mouth of a beer bottle. "How do you know they were telling you the truth when they told you that?"

Naomi blinked. The thought hadn't occurred to her. She stared at the boys, who stared back at her hoping she'd read their minds like they could read each other's. They had a point, a point she had been missing so far. "But if they are blaming Mello…." She wondered aloud. "Who is Mello? Why him?"

"I'm sorry." Jaime's voice was almost a whisper. "That's all we can tell you."

"You must tell me all you know."

"Think about the situation we're in right now." Jerry demanded. "And tell me, isn't it best if we play our cards right? Aren't we already telling you too much?"

Naomi registered that for a bit frowning. She looked back down at the recorder and realized why Jerry had looked at it like it was an enemy. She pushed the seat back and got out of it, turned the recorder off and stuffed it in her bag. Notepad still in hand she walked towards the door and stopped before turning the handle.

_Matt is-was a very good friend of ours…._

"Describe Matt for me." She requested.

"Tall, pale skin, red hair, horrendously large feet, bony, wears goggles a lot for some reason, smokes a lot of cigarettes." Jerry counted.

"Good guy, overall." Jaime added.

She stared at the two for a bit noticing how both their descriptions of Matt and Mello were more personal than anyone else's out of the people she had spoken to today.  _Honesty._  She decided turning back to the door.

"This interrogation never happened." She said. "I never met either of you. I'll make sure no one hears the recordings. I'll write it in a code and destroy the original file."

With that and before they could thank her, she left.

* * *

**Time: 10pm.**

Naomi watched the last of the lights on her office floor flicker out, except hers of course. She watched the last of her colleagues leave, gesturing to her as though to ask if she was coming or not. She simply smiled and shook her head.

Her eyes fell on Kai's office. It had been empty for most of the day. But he had been around when she had gotten back from the hotel and her meeting with the band.

"How was it then?" He had asked her but she knew he knew everything or at least the bit about her talk with Madison, Joey and Gareth.

"It went well." And it had gone remarkably well. So at least she wasn't lying to a superior.

"Did you find their answers satisfactory or do we need to bring them in?"

"No need for that. I got what I wanted." She had smiled at him. "I'm still quite baffled about this Mello guy though."

"Well tell me if you find anything." He had said, rubbing his eyes. "Don't let him get away again."

"Are you saying I'm authorized to move in without informing or permission if I spot Mello?"

"Not without informing. But without permission, yes."

She had smiled at the thought of Kai trying to throw her a bone to keep her under him and she had thanked him for it. She was a good liar too when she needed to be.

She, now, sat at her desk, one tube light and her lamp light illuminating the desk before her. Her notepad sat before her, opened to the page where she had noted down Jerry's description of Matt. Her laptop was in front of her, a video paused midway. It showed a couple of figures in a parking lot, back to back. One was a boy in leather. She knew it was leather from the way the sunlight shone off it like he was the hood of a car. His hair was blowing into his face and even in the bluish green monochrome of the video she could tell that he was blonde, judging by how white his hair looked.

The other boy was in a striped shirt, holding a gun so awkwardly she knew it was new to him. His skin saturated to a nice whitish shade too, and if she didn't take into account that the sunlight was harsh on his skin, then she'd have concluded he was rather pale and bony. His hair was too dark to be red though, or it was a darker shade of red, an auburn or a deep red, or brown, she wasn't sure. But the reason why the video was paused at that moment was that the boy's face was turned towards the camera and on his face was what Naomi knew was a pair of goggles.

Naomi sat staring at the notepad reading and rereading Matt's description. She rolled an old card around in her hand. It was discolored in places where she had let her mug of coffee sit on it, but it's contents were still legible.

_It's been too long._ She told herself.  _He wouldn't remember._ She fidgeted with the card harder, frowning and staring at the description of Matt. Her eyes shot again at Kai's office.  _I don't have anyone else to turn to. And I need help._

She picked her the receiver of her office phone up so suddenly that she scared herself. She let it sit in her hand next to her ear for a while, listening to the buzz of the phone.

Then she dialed the number on the card and waited.

"Hello?" She said. "Sorry to bother at such a late hour. This is Naomi Misora and I am looking for L."

**Moral: "You cannot believe a liar even when he tells the truth." Aesop.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. As this is my first ever attempt an Alternate Universe fic, I'd really like some feedback or comments...if you have the time.


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